


Rift

by Jenner (bella)



Series: The Rift Series [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mpreg, Romance, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-03-17
Updated: 2011-03-24
Packaged: 2017-10-17 01:24:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 91,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bella/pseuds/Jenner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part II of <b>the Rift series<b></b></b>.</p><p>In a post-apocalyptic future, a war for Earth has devastated the planet and torn civilization apart. Six alien species - each fleeing destroyed homes and at war for their own survival - have come through a quantum rift to make a new home on our small, bountiful planet. Decades of war have seen the defeat of the human defenses, but now help has come from an unlikely place: the Wolfe shifters who are now in control of the planetary government believe the futures of wolfe and man to be inextricably linked.</p><p>Alexei & Damon are two very different humans living very different lives on opposite sides of the planet. But love and other entanglements lead each of them to become involved in some *very intimate* foreign relations - and both will end up unlikely ambassadors for Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

**Spring, Year One (5th Moon)**

Alex looked groggily up at Garron.  
"Mmmrr?  
"Easy, kitten, you're still a bit out of it. The dozers'll wear off in about 20 minutes. They had to sedate you in order to patch you up a bit, but you're all right now." Garron curled his tail around one luxuriously nude thigh and smiled adoringly down at Alex. "Came back to me, did you, darling? Good thing you made it here in time. Night's fallen." Garron lay down and stretched out next to Alex, nuzzling his shoulder. Alex made a damp sound of complaint with his tongue and tried to roll away. "Don't be scared, kitten. I'll be gentle." Alex sighed and tolerated the wolfe's caresses until his tongue began to behave.

"Ge' off'f me," he slurred, pushing Garron's hands away from where they'd wandered to stroke his hipbones and thighs. Garron smiled indulgently.  
"Modest, are we? I understand. You'll need some time to adjust. Just remember," he said, baring his teeth ever-so-slightly, "who the master of this house is."  
Alex dropped his head in a reactive display of submission. No sense, he decided, in displeasing his host. Most especially since he'd managed to get himself caught up with an extremely powerful host — according to all reports, Garron was the First Alpha male of the ColdRiver pack, the highest possible position in the Wolvish Empire, which spanned the American East from what was once Canada down to the islands, and as far east as the Mississippi. After he'd run away from the Louts in the far North and disappeared onto the open road, he'd quickly begun to search for the path of least resistance to freedom. His truck failed, somewhere after Philadelphia, and he'd been lost, with no place to go, no food, and a bounty on his head, so he'd started walking, hoping for the best. He'd passed out just inside of the Maryland line, close enough to Garron's immediate territory that he had at least a chance of being found.

And found he was. Garron told him the story later, as he'd lain in the infirmary bed.

"There were sixteen of us in the hunting pack when we found you. Or Kriston found you, I should say. You were curled up beneath a tree, love, filthy to the point of being unscentable. If it hadn't been for this," here, Garron's hand wanders to idly stroke the bracelet he'd given Alex when they'd first met. "we probably would have never recognized you."

That was a possibility Alex preferred not to consider. If Garron hadn't found him, then he wouldn't have been rescued; he'd have been eaten, or found by the Louts, or gotten sick or met any number of unseemly fates. And besides - if he hadn't been rescued, then he couldn't very well make a mad and daring escape, now could he?

Escape. Now there was something to focus on. Maybe if he could reach the shore and find a boat...so many islands remained untouched, undisturbed, uncharted but by human hands. Maybe he could find one — sparsely populated, but accessible enough — and he could live a normal life again. Or at least as normal as one could expect while pretending that the world wasn't a wasteland, torn apart and invaded and divvied up between six species no one had ever heard of twenty years back. Before the nations he'd served and subverted bent and caved and crumbled under the crushing weight of Contact.

Alexander Nikolaevich Romanov had been considered a patriot in the early days, on two fronts (although he had been truthfully loyal to neither). To be free of that burden in particular brought him a relief that was confused, secret, and profound. He had no allegiances now — at least not to anything but his own freedom. That fact alone almost made the collapse seem worthwhile.

It was with this in mind that, lying on his side in the infirmary bed and only half-listening to what Garron was saying, Alex began to plan the necessary steps towards his escape. He'd already escaped from the Louts – in itself a challenging task — but were they still after him? A shudder coursed along his spine as he considered the possibility. Come what may, he would not go back there. But where was he now? From Garron's rambling, he'd managed to gather that he was in the ColdRiver mainstay, somewhere near along the southeastern shore of the mid-Atlantic, and right at the heart of the eastern Wolfish territory. Clearly, relieving himself of this situation would require some finesse.

And what of the wolfe? Garron's intentions for him were quite clear; everyone knew wolfes were mate-crazy, and from the first time they'd met, the alpha had never hid his desire from Alex. It had made for some slightly hairy encounters in the past, but perhaps now this could be used to the human's advantage. Garron's affections might, in fact, be just about the best thing that had ever happened to Alex. If he could just keep the wolfe king's favor for long enough to be sure the Louts had lost his trail, then he could escape back into the world a free man. No treaties guaranteed the extradition of Wolvish escapees, and if Alex could just make off towards the south, then there might be some chance to find a refuge, an island; anything to call home. It would be so simple...if he could pull it off.

Alex bit his lip and nodded in a particularly obsequious way, drawing the wolfe's attention. Garron cocked one eyebrow in half-suspicious amusement.  
"Behaving already? That's not the human I remember."  
Alex ignored this and smiled warmly, letting his eyes go shiny and even mist up a bit.  
"Well, I've changed," he said sweetly, then looked off, towards the window of his infirmary room, gazing at something beyond the wolfe's view. "Garron?"  
"Yes, love?"  
"I've really missed you."  
Garron's eyes went alight with adoration and Alex briefly felt regret about deceiving him. It faded, quickly.  
"And I, you, kitten."  
"I - I'm sorry."  
"For?" Garron's question carried a particular tone to it that demanded more than another innocence declaration.  
"For running off. For - for disappearing. For stealing from you. For tricking your men. For stealing from your men. For leading you on." Alex worked his jaw for a second, then added, "And for betraying you. It was — it was all a mistake." Garron regarded the human cautiously for a moment, then reached one large hand out to stroke his hair.

"Your rebellion was understood then, as it is now. You're forgiven." Garron's voice gentled. "Besides, you were too innocent — you didn't know what the world was like out there. But you know now, don't you? And you're home now, aren't you?"  
Alex looked up into those penetrating gray eyes, so uncommon to see on a wolfe, and nodded.  
"Are you — will you let me stay?" he was careful to make his question sound tentative, nervous.  
"I had no inclination whatsoever to do otherwise." Perfect.  
"Garron?"  
"Hmm, darling?"  
"I can't sleep here. Will you take me with you?"  
"Of course." Garron leaned in closer to the human, and Alex knew he was taking in his scent again.  
"Now?" he flicked his eyes away, to the floor, then back up to his wolfe. "I'd like to rest, but I thought maybe we could spend some time together first." Garron's pupils dilated and he nodded.  
"We'll get you out of here immediately."

Alex was taken from the infirmary, after the doctors verified that he was generally without injury or disease, and placed under watch in Garron's suite. The Alphas' quarters occupied the entire top floor of the North Wing, and Alex couldn't help but envy Garron his style. All done through in dark woods and polished stone, the entryway led into a massive reception room that appeared to seat at least 20, a kitchen and meat locker were visible off to the right, and a short hallway to the left led into a massive bedroom, where Garron eventually ended their tour. However, beyond the bedroom, he explained, were the bathing rooms that he shared with Second Alpha Kriston. The other shared Alpha spaces were above, on the rooftop — the private pool and hot baths, garden and aviary.

Alex never got to see all these, unfortunately, because by the time they had gotten as far as the bedroom, he'd been exhausted. Days of sleeplessness, hiding out, overwhelming fear, and general mortal panic had caught firmly up with him, and he quickly found himself inextricably sworn to slumber.

Alex woke when Garron returned home later that evening and called for the 20hour meal to be brought to his suite. Rather than try to lead his mate into the reception room to dine, Garron simply removed his outer layer, then climbed onto the bed and ate with Alex, the two of them sitting cross-legged and making a mess of the whole thing. Just as they were coming to the end of the meat and the odd rice-paste that wolfes were so fond of, Garron leaned over and kissed him. Alex wasn't surprised; had been expecting it, in fact, through the evening of lustful glances and long pauses. But expectation had no bearing on acceptance. For this, too, Alex had a plan. After a few minutes of further embrace, Alex stilled in Garron's arms. Garron stopped, too, breathless.

"What's wrong, darling?"

Alright. Here was make-or-break time. If he didn't sell it, he would lose it.

"I just - I didn't - I'm sorry." Alex bit the inside of his lip until he teared up. "I'm trying, but — " he sniffled a few times and scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand. Garron released him and sat up, concerned.  
"But what, love? What's wrong?"  
"I can't do this."  
Alarm lit Garron's features and his gaze raked Alex's body.  
"Can't? Darling, why? The doctors said you were alright — have they missed something? Are you hurt?"

Alex allowed sufficient time for a dramatic pause to pass as he took deep breaths and tried to be brave. Finally, he spoke:  
"When I was with the Louts," Alex could just feel Garron bristling at the mention of that. "Things happened. Bad things."  
Garron's expression darkened, but his voice remained gentle.  
"Kitten, please tell me what's happened. What did they do to you?"  
Alex looked away, squeezed one hand into a fist, and wiped away more forced tears.  
"When - when I ran from you — "  
"Yes?"  
"James and I got lost. And then these...things found us." Garron's muscles were tense with agitation, but he waited patiently for the human to go on. "Louts, and that was when I got scared. We told them who we were, and that we were Wolvish, and that we wanted to go home, but they wouldn't let us pass." Garron gathered Alex, who was now on the verge of tears, into his arms. "They gave us to two other men, generals. And they said that we were gifts to them." Alex had his head on Garron's shoulder, but he could tell that he was gritting his teeth.  
"And what happened then, kitten?"  
"Then I didn't see James anymore. I don't know what happened to him. But mine...he tried to have me...as a mate. And when I fought him, he beat me, chained me to the floor, and told me I would stay there until I learned my place."

Garron's hold had tightened as his anger had grown, and now Alex could see the fur on his tail standing on end.  
"My poor, poor little one Alexei." he cooed, but his rage was obvious in the grit of his voice and the tightness of his jaw. Alex went on.  
"And I was so sorry, Garron. All I could think about was what I'd done — what I'd given up, here, with you. All I wanted was to come back. All I wanted was to come home."  
"And that's where you are now," Garron comforted, "You're home with me." Alex clung to his wolfe's shoulder for a few minutes before collecting himself and pulling away.

"I hate the Louts." he said, wiping his eyes with a corner of his shirt that revealed just a bit of his abdomen to the wolfe. "They're looking for me now. They think I've betrayed them; that I've run away from my Lout husband and been unfaithful, but I haven't, Garron. I didn't consent to any of that, and I was already almost mated to you when they found me - I told them so! I haven't done anything wrong, but I don't think they'll stop until they get me back and punish me. I don't..." he began, slowing his voice and glancing up at the wolfe, "I don't think I can get away from them. I'm scared."  
"You needn't be. You're in Wolvish territory now; they wouldn't dare come here. And we're far more powerful than they are, anyway. Shush, darling, your mate will keep you safe."  
Alex nodded, bit his lip, and went into Garron's arms again. Fantastic. A promise of protection and the romantic attention of a powerful wolfe were about the best ticket to an easy escape any human could ask for.

"And we don't have to do anything tonight, kitten. In a few weeks, right? By then, we'll be bonded, and you'll have had some time to rest up." Alex nodded against the wolfe's shoulder. Already, things were going even better than he'd planned.

"I'm sorry." he sighed, stroking a finger along Garron's bare arm. The wolfe grunted and shifted his hold on the human.  
"Oh, darling, what for?"  
"I've disappointed you."  
"Hardly." Garron kissed his forehead. "You don't feel well, and that's fine. First thing in the morning, we'll have the doctor talk to you and make sure everything's really OK, alright?" Alex gave a wan little smile and Garron patted his arm. "Now let's get this mess cleaned up."

By the time they'd finished clearing the food away and changing the sheets, Alex was exhausted again. Garron put him to bed and climbed in beside him, cuddling up next to the warmth of the human's body. That night, Alex slept peacefully, in a warm bed in a safe home, with the wolfe Garron's heart beating steadily beside him.

* * *

"My assessment," the doctor began, looking closely at Garron, "is that he's suffered a great deal of trauma, both mental and physical. He seems to be fairly untouched, internally, but he's got plenty of bruises on him, particularly about his hips and sides. We've regenerated most of them away, but I'm sure the scars on his mind are far more plentiful and difficult to reach. He seems to have blocked many of the memories, although we found enough to verify his story. My advice to you, as I'm assuming that you intend to mate the little one, is to be very gentle with him, physically, for the next few weeks, until you're sure he's back in working condition, and even more gentle with him mentally, until he seems to greet your advances with eagerness."

Garron nodded.  
"I will."  
The doctor leaned closer. He knew warriors well.  
"You'll have to be patient. Very patient."  
Garron swallowed and nodded.  
"I can do that."  
"Please. I'd hate to see him back in my office at your hands."  
Garron frowned.  
"On my honor, I won't let that happen."  
"Good." The doctor turned and rifled through a few drawers behind him.

"Well, if he complains of soreness, rub some of this on his bruises." Garron took the medicine he was offered, wrinkling his nose at the scent, and turned to leave the office.

"One more thing, First Alpha."  
Garron turned back. The doctor sagely laced his hands on the desk in front of him and peered at the younger wolfe.  
"You may want to begin introducing him to the idea of pups now. It will give him something to focus on besides the physicality of your relationship, and may help him to feel a bit more anchored. It may even give him some sense of goals, of purpose. That may help."

Respectfully, Garron nodded, bowed, and left the office.

* * *

He returned to the examination room, where Alex was waiting for him, nervously drumming his fingers on the cold metal table. The human still wore just a hospital robe, and Garron was briefly tempted by the possibilities presented in his mate's state of undress. Alex's eyes met Garron's as the wolfe entered.

"What'd he say?"  
"Well." Garron's face got very solemn. "He's given me some very serious news."  
"What?" Alex went sixteen shades of pale and Garron smiled broadly.  
"Just that you are going to be absolutely fine. He confesses you've suffered some…trauma, and he thinks that you're still very deeply affected by that. But he tells me you'll be right as rain in a few weeks, if you keep coming in for your checkups and meeting with your adjustor. But he reminds me that I must be gentle with you, particularly now, as you've just begun healing." Alex exhaled deeply.

Excellent. So all was still well, and his plans were still on. Garron was right — if everything went as he wanted it to go, Alex was absolutely, positively, definitely going to be just fine.

Alex napped again when they returned to the Alpha suite, and woke around 15h to the smell of food cooking. Slowly, he opened his eyes and found a pair of sharp grey ones staring back at him. Alex blinked. The eyes smiled.  
"You're awake." Garron said. Alex looked down the bed, to where a thick grey tail was thumping happily against his calf.  
"Uh-huh."  
"I made food." Garron told him, excitedly. Alex looked around as best he could without moving his head and groaned a little. "The doctors said that you have to eat."  
"My head hurts. What time is it?"  
"After 15hours, love, and you have to get up. You need to eat, and then I have something to show you."

With much more coaxing and a few bites of whatever it was that Garron had made in the other room, the wolfe finally persuaded his mate to get up and follow him.

* * *

Damn. Damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn _fuck_. Everything was perfect. Just perfect. It had all been going so well. Why'd this have to come along and ruin it?

Alex paced the floor in the bedroom, chewing away his fingernails into rags. There was no way out of this. There was no goddamn way out of this. He knew that different colonies had been working for almost forty years now on the issue of fertility. Ever since the women had been taken in the first invasion, and the reproduction banks decimated by the Plague, humans had been working nonstop on finding some way to create new life — to keep mankind alive. The Wolfes, the Louts, and the Psires had also been stricken; the combination of forces between groups had multiplied the rate of research into potential solutions exponentially.

But those solutions had remained just that — potential. Nothing more. If there had been any definitive answers, Alex would have known. All humans would have known! There was no way they couldn't have known. Alex's thoughts raced through his mind. He should have known.

The Wolfes had never deigned to be a part of the reproductive research treaties. They had been affected by the Plague for sure — that much was common knowledge. Their numbers had stayed relatively constant over the years — that was common knowledge, too, but the explanation was obvious. Wolfes were renowned kidnappers, picking up any humans they could find — just orphans at first, and the abandoned, but then it was humans from the small groups, sometimes entire groups at a time, and then it was humans wherever they found them, collecting more and more on their way to building an empire.

But those empire-building plans had remained sketchy to outsiders; the Wolvish empire was secretive, and Alex and James were two of only a handful to ever walk away from it. When Alex had visited the first time, he hadn't seen any children, only occasional groups of teenagers, and although even that sight was unfamiliar, nothing about it seemed extraordinary. He'd had no idea. None. Tip of the iceberg. No wonder the wolfes never bothered with any of the research treaties. And now it made sense, how they never took anyone but humans. It was strange, it was bizarre, and it was unbelievable, but as Alex had stood next to Garron in the hybrid nursery, there was no doubt that it was true.

Through the glass, they watched six tiny newborns sleep. Silent machines with illuminated projection screens surrounded them, and they were swaddled in furs and tiny fleece blankets. Garron's tail slapped idly against Alex's leg as they stood there, side by side, watching.

"They're kept here for a 12-hour observation period before they're returned to their birthers." In the room to the left, a young man with curly brown hair and angelic almond-shaped eyes was sleeping, being watched intently by a pacing wolfe who was dividing his time between checking on his pups, guarding his mate, and monitoring the position of Garron and Alex, who, even through the glass, stood too close to his litter for his liking. Garron smiled softly.

"He's protective. That's good." Alex examined the man in the bed as discreetly as he could. "I would be, too, with a mate so beautiful." Alex bridled a little at that comment, but squashed that minor jealousy as soon as it arose. Garron went on, his voice reverent. "And such a large litter! But he's carried it beautifully; they all look wonderful."

"Don't they." Alex replied dryly. In the room, the man was waking, and the wolfe rushed to his side. Garron's tail slowed its thump against Alex's leg and there was real lust in his voice as he spoke.  
"Words, but he's lovely."

Alex felt a curious stab of something in his chest, just under the ribcage, but put it down to a bad lunch. It certainly wasn't the feeling of being slighted by one's lover. Besides, he felt sure that Garron's interest in the birther was merely a passing distraction — for one, it was obvious the human already had a mate. And for two, Garron had once told Alex that he believed him to be one of the most prepossessingly handsome humans on Erim. Obviously that was still true, even if it had been some time ago. It hadn't been that long. Garron's opinion of him wouldn't have changed that quickly. Alex felt annoyed at himself, suddenly, for this entire train of thought. Garron's opinion, in fact, was of very little consequence to Alex, just so long as the wolfe abetted The Great Escape. Before he was capable of restoring his self-interested stoicism, however, Garron turned and caught just a hint of the emotions fleeting across Alex's face.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, kitten. That was a stupid thing to say."  
Alex shrugged off the hand that went to stroke his face.  
"S'alright." he mumbled, suddenly finding himself flushing.  
"No...damn, I didn't mean to do that. Of course he's nowhere near so perfect as you, darling. Not even half. You're all I want." Garron was insistent.  
"It's OK." Alex managed a small smile and took Garron's hand in his own. "Tell me more about the pups, will you? About how this works?"  
Garron eagerly switched topics.

"There's a ten month gestation period. And the litters are usually about four, although they can come as little as one or as big as nine. You can tell the males; they're born with tails. Females are tailless."  
Alex furrowed his brow.  
"They're all males, Garron."  
Garron shook his head.  
"No, those will eventually grow up to bear more pups. They're females." Alex blinked at Garron.  
"I'm not a female."  
Garron, deciding not to belabor the point, just shrugged.  
"Well, we'll see when you have your puppies, alright, darling?"

Alex considered arguing, but decided that his point would be unlikely to register, regardless. Garron continued explaining.

"We found out by accident, years ago, just after the first of us made our way here. There was a litter born to a human male. It was lost, as was the story, for some time, but we found the records 12 years ago. We were able to track down four of the six in the litter still living, far off in Psire territory. We contacted them and they agreed to come and live here, with their own." Garron frowned. "Only one is a male, and he is tailless. It was cut off when he was a child, by adopted parents who called it a deformed abomination. But otherwise, they are all healthy. Research showed that this wasn't an isolated phenomenon. We took a few humans, for tests, and they went wonderfully. Your species seems to be a perfect complement to ours."

Here Garron turned to Alex, smiling broadly.

"Our pheromones act as suppressants to your own regulatory systems, leaving your body vulnerable, confused, and wholly unprepared to resist any sort of intruders. Now, your genetic code is normally under mutagenic attack — this does not change. But in the case of regulatory suppression, your restorative proteins are unable to repair any damage done. Frightened, panicking, and with very little time, they will snatch out and patch the holes in their lines with any genes they find available — if the wolfe, by this point, has done his job right, then those genes will be ours. More specifically, they'll be part of a unique package of gametic proteins — even the short chains of which are peculiarly capable of triggering a series of physiological alterations in the reproductive capability of a human."

Garron smiled again.

"It's a bit more complicated than that - I'm afraid I've given you the child's version — but the point is it works. And because it works, we are going to survive." Garron finished, proudly. "Wolvish genes are exceedingly clever, it seems. In the same way that your bodies have all manner of ways to keep the doors closed, ours have a delightful array of approaches to picking the locks."

Alex was silent for a moment, just processing, thinking, and taking in this new earth-shaking shift in his understanding of the world.  
"So then the children — are they wolfe or human?"  
"Either. The chromosomes make the choice." Garron frowned a little. "We haven't had any Old females produced yet. They don't seem to be in the cards just now. But that's alright. The current system seems to be working just fine." Alex nodded and stepped away from the glass. Garron looked sympathetically at him. "I know this is all a bit much to take in at once, darling."  
"You have no idea." This was sick. Fascinating, but sick.

"But you'll get used to it." Never.  
"Will I?" Garron nodded and sat down beside Alex.  
"It's unbelievable, I know. But it's not strange; it's wonderful. The children are all beautiful, and healthy, and so well loved. No one could ask for a better solution." Alex swallowed. He knew what was coming. "So naturally," Garron said casually, looking keenly into Alex's face, "We'll all want to participate."

Alex's mind reeled, but he knew better than to run screaming from the room, or even hesitate in his responsiveness.  
"Naturally," he said, swallowing a choke, "We will."

* * *

This trip was turning out to be a total fucking catastrophe.

Everything he'd seen in the nursery today had terrified him. It had been eventuality he'd been completely unprepared for. Pups. _Children._ Garron wanted children. Out of him.

Alex had to hold on to the wall briefly to keep from losing his balance. OK. Just think. Maybe there was still a way out of this? What if he just had one litter. Just one, and in exchange Garron promised to release him? No, that would never work. Wolfes took parentage very seriously, and if he had a litter and left...well, not only would Garron never stop hunting him down, but his life wouldn't be worth much when the wolfe found him. Abandoning a cub was just one step above murder in the Wolvish justice system. Alex would probably be beaten, jailed, and then drugged into loving the little rugrats. And besides, leaving Garron was one thing. Leaving his own child — tail and paws or not — was another.

OK. So no children then. So he just had to avoid it, at one level or the other. He could avoid sex, probably, for another few weeks, until it became obvious what he was doing. And then what? Fine. He'd just have to avoid getting knocked up, then. But how? The Wolfes probably knew. If they could make 'em, he was sure they could prevent 'em. But it would be far too dangerous to go to any wolfe with this query. Like a good little soldier, he'd go running straight away to his alpha to tattle on the alpha's mate.

OK. So he would have to do it himself, then. Keep that whole…process from working. Alex swallowed, again, slowly. He could do this. He could figure it out. He'd find something he could take, or some tea he could drink, or…something. And what if that failed? Alex's mind went silent, then roused into a flurry of confusion and thought. Floating in bold print above all the minor notes and half-fragged sentences was the single, terrifying, subversive, disruptive, rebelliously seditious suggestion that It Might Not Be That Bad.

Alex's world spun and it kept spinning. He had held a baby exactly twice in his life. The first time had been at age 20, in Kolyngrad, when an infant had shown up at the church from who knows where and he had been momentarily available and in possession of a spare blanket and the priest had been busy making phone calls. The second time had been at 27, in the Colonies, when he had witnessed a surrogate give birth in a moving medical cart in the underground. The infant had outlived its birther, by three pitiful minutes. But even dead, the thing was a rare reverence, and so Alex had dutifully held it, just as the rest of the group had, before they put them both in the ground.

The contrast between those two episodes — the serendipitous arrival of life and the abrupt replacement of it with death — had struck him so deeply that thoughts of children had remained with him ever since. It was a thing, Alex had realized some time ago, that he wanted. But not like this. Not in a place too far from home; not while he wasn't safe; not when it was essentially forced.

"Garron," he began, and hesitated only when he saw and comprehended the look in the wolfe's eye. Garron's expression told him clearly that if he resisted this, if he did not give even this to his wolfe, then all hope for their bond was lost. There was only one thing to do — he'd let Garron have his way with him and sneak off afterwards to counter it every time. He could pass it off as infertility, which should be easy enough. A diluted iodine rinse should do it, if administered in proper time: Iodine fixed everything. This wouldn't be as pleasant a visit as he had hoped. He half-smiled at his wolfe.

"I'll try."

"Alright." Garron looked relieved. He leaned over for a quick kiss and Alex allowed it. "All I ask is that you try."


	2. Settling In

**Summer, Year One (8th Moon)**

Alex had been Garron's bondmate for almost 3 months now, and things were going very, very poorly.

Garron sighed as he stumbled into his bedroom. He unbound his hair and undressed, then dropped down onto the bed for a nap. His tail fell heavily against his left thigh, and he stretched his arms above his head. It had been a long day; meetings with the GreatLake Pack had been difficult and stressful, Kriston had been critical of Alex's behavior at the noonmeal, the Council had been displeased with his current lack of a litter ("avoiding the natural responsibilities which an Alpha should embrace," they'd said), and even his time teaching his upper-level students had felt unfruitful and exasperating. Garron glanced around the room from his prone position. No signs of his mate. He sniffed the air. No, his mate certainly had not been here in hours.

Since Alex had become more accustomed to his Wolvish life, he'd also become more accustomed to spending his time outside of Garron's suite. This was not a problem in itself; Alex had been volunteering in the infirmary as a medic, and Garron knew that and praised it. And Alex had also made one or two human friends, both bonded to wolfes in Garron's upper echelons. Both were admirable enterprises, but something particular in his beta's absence just at that moment bothered Garron. It seemed sometimes as if Alex were conveniently busy — as if, without wanting to reveal himself, he were avoiding Garron.

Turning to lie on his back, Garron wondered if he and Alex would ever properly mate, bond, and have a litter; after all, Alex was well past the age at which first litters were generally birthed, and Garron himself was no younger. They were both still in their prime, however, and Garron took some comfort in the knowledge that at least they were trying. Even if it didn't seem to be working.

Speaking truthfully with himself, Garron had to admit that he was getting a little worried about that part. Even a month of unbridled sexual activity should be more than enough to bring a lit to a fertile mate. But what if Alex wasn't fertile? It was a possibility, but unlikely. Betas were usually tested frequently for an aberrations in their fertility. He himself could be the problem. Perhaps some battle injury, or age, or some undetected genetic failure… or maybe he and Alex were simply incompatible. Or maybe they were trying too hard.

Whatever the reason, the results were disconcerting. Alex seemed in worse health than ever, and his spirits seemed to have sunk. Sex seemed to become a chore for the human: uncomfortable at best, painful at worst. He flinched constantly away from Garron's touch. His skin had a strange pallor to it, and he had lost what little weight he'd had from an unaccountable lack of appetite. He also seemed unusually withdrawn, and oddly secretive — was he sick? Was his mate sick, and unwilling to place the burden of worry on Garron? Was he going through an illness alone? Garron's heart felt heavy at even the possibility. And if it was an illness of the mind and not the body? What then? What would he do if it was ColdRiver that was killing Alex? Perhaps he had too few friends, or spoke too little Wolvish, or knew too few of their customs or went outside too infrequently to ever really be happy. Although an unhappy prospect, at least this route of thinking gave Garron some hope. If the problem with Alexei was his environment, then the problem with Alexei could be fixed, or at least improved. Garron would just have to figure out how to do it.


	3. Masquerade

**Autumn, Year One (9th Moon)**

"So do you think you can help me?"  
Garron had to fight to keep his tail from thumping in agitation as he waited for the response from the dark-haired human before him. The man crossed the room to a desk, leaned against it, and touched an elegant hand to his lips. Eventually, he looked up at Garron and brought his hand away.  
"I am desperate to see my brother again. I have to, or I'll never believe that he's really alive."  
"Yes, but will you talk to him for me?"  
Nikolai chewed at the inside of his lip.  
"I am not certain that I can promise you it will help."  
"Why not?" Garron demanded, petulant in his worry for his mate.  
Nikolai shrugged.  
"I am his brother, but he hasn't seen me in seven years. Why should what I say matter?"  
Garron stared at the man as if he were very slow.  
"Because you are his brother. He hasn’t seen you in seven years. He still speaks of you daily; he'll listen to anything you say. It's critical, Mate Nikolai. He's not doing well. He's having trouble...assimilating. Just talk to him. Tell him that being part of the Wolvish empire is not something to be afraid of. Spend some time with him. Make him happy. He will listen to you."

Nikolai nodded and got to his feet, hands supporting the bottom of his distended belly. He was just reaching for a chair when he felt a kick and flinched, harshly. Garron and his own mate were at his side in seconds.  
"Nik! Are you alright, darling?" his wolfe was supporting him, urging him towards the bed, and throwing angry glances Garron's way, all at once. Nikolai laughed a little.  
"I'm OK, I'm OK; I just got startled. You worry too much. Let me sit down." Nikolai's wolfe obliged him, but didn't retreat far from his beta's side. Garron looked uneasy.  
"I have troubled you too much — "  
"No! First Alpha Wolfe, please, I want to see my brother." Nikolai's eyes were pleading, and for a moment, they looked so much like Alexei's that Garron couldn't resist.  
"You'll help me?"  
"On one condition." Nikolai raised a single finger, and Garron nodded eagerly. "You have to talk to him first. If my brother is as I remember him, then there's something deeper going on — something under the surface that he's grappling with. You need to talk to him. Find the problem and you'll fix your Alexei."  
Garron mulled this over.  
"When can you come?"  
Nikolai looked to his mate for confirmation.  
"We will travel back to ColdRiver with you when you go."  
Garron smiled.  
"Then you should begin packing immediately."

* * *

"Alexei, darling?" Garron poked his head into the garden cautiously. Alex, who had been settled into one of the lightweight, wooden chairs with a cup of tea too hot for the summertime, looked up at him.  
"I'm here." he said, tiredly.

Garron's nervous expression turned into a fleeting grin, and, feeling generous, Alex smiled back. Jerkily, the wolfe approached, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he stood in front of Alex.  
"Em." Alex watched Garron expectantly. "I've, uh, I've found someone who wants to see you."  
"See me?" Alex queried. Garron nodded. "Who?"  
"He says he's an old friend." Alex furrowed his brow, trying to figure out who his mystery guest could be. "He talks like you."

Alex's head shot up.  
"He's Russian?"  
Garron nodded.  
"He's downstairs, will you come? He can't go up the steps."  
Alex nodded and jumped to his feet, trailing after his wolfe as they reentered the building and headed downstairs. Alex had pushed in front of Garron by the time they reached the bottom of the staircase and now threw open the door to their wing. His breath caught in his throat.

"Nikolai!" The man sitting on the bed snapped his head around to look at Alex, and they both stared in disbelief for a moment before falling into each other's arms.  
"Aleksander." Nik held him tight. "You're the last person I'd have expected to find." he whispered in Russian. "I thought you were dead." Alex laughed bitterly.  
"I thought everyone was dead." Alex ran a trembling hand across his face and dropped down on the bed next to Nikolai as Garron and Nik's mate quietly left the room. "But you're not dead." Alex hugged him again, and as he did, his gaze drifted downward.  
"Nikolai?" he looked up, his unspoken question teetering, unsettled, between them. Nik lifted his chin and answered.  
"Eight and a half months." he followed Alex's gaze down to his own middle. "I've been bondmated to Ebroman almost three years now." There was a terrible, difficult pause…an acknowledgment of a shared tragedy that was now too far in the past to fully recall.

"Congratulations." Alex managed eventually, shuttling that past back to where it belonged. "You must be delighted."  
Relief broke across Nik's face, and he smiled broadly.  
"I am. I'm so happy for it, Sasha. And Ebroman, too." Nikolai left the mention of his wolfe open, hoping that Alex would answer back about his own. His younger brother gave a smile, but said nothing.  
"It's so good to see you, Nik. It's been lonely here. I haven't made many friends. It's good to see a familiar face."  
Nik reached for his brother's shoulder and squeezed it in a show of solidarity.  
"Well, I'm grateful to have found you again. I'm glad that you're alive! I had no idea anyone would make it out of the bombings…" Nikolai lifted his head, a sudden thought occurring to him. "Have you found anyone else?" he demanded.  
Alex shook his head, the chasm of loss suddenly opening again.  
"No one. Not here, anyway. Maybe with the Louts." he trailed off and they both fell silent. This was a different silence than those before it — it was a silence of superstitious fear, the silence that believes that things unspoken remain undone.

Eventually, Alex broke their stupor, placing one hand on his brother's belly and smiling.  
"Month and a half longer, then?"  
Nikolai beamed with pride.  
"Five of them. They said that's really good. It's a big litter, especially for my first. And I know I don't get to — well, that's another thing. But I just want them to be healthy and bright. And maybe human! I'm wishing for all humans, but I know Ebroman doesn't think that's fair. If we can just manage to - Alexei!"  
Alex jerked his head up, startled.  
"Are you alright?" his brother demanded. "You've gone pale."  
Alex gave another of his little half-smiles.  
"Just thinking."  
"About your litter." Nikolai offered this as a statement, not a question, which gave Alex a burst of fright.  
"What?!"  
Nikolai cocked his head, as if observing some particularly interesting phenomenon.  
"The slicer says you'll be with soon." he answered. Alex laughed out loud.  
"Slicer? That's a clever name."  
"Yeah, but you can't say it to their faces; it really pisses them off." they shared a chuckle before Nik probed once more. "Will you, though?"  
Alex shrugged and looked weakly around.  
"I don't know. Maybe." he answered evasively.  
"Maybe...?"

Restlessly, Alex got up and walked around a bit in the room.  
"Are you comfortable? We can sit somewhere else if you like."  
Nik shook his head.  
"The bed is fine." he swung his legs up and inched backwards until his back pressed against the headboard.  
"Are you hungry, then?"  
"No, Alexei."  
"Too cold — it's always cold in here." Alex shook his head. "Wolfes don't feel it, but I'll get you a blanket — "  
"Alexei!" Nik shook his head in amused frustration. "No. I'm fine. Come, sit with me."  
Alex hesitated, but clambered up onto the bed to sit beside his brother.

"Why maybe?" Nik asked again and Alex shrugged, rubbing his shoulder.  
"Maybe because maybe I don't want to stay here." Alex balked at sharing his secret plan with anyone else, but Nikolai was his brother, and things could not be kept secret between them. "I'm going to run."  
Nik looked surprised and strangely fascinated by this idea, as if it had never occurred to him before.  
"But where are you going to go?"  
"A colony. Or a refuge — one of those islands that the wolfes and Louts have all passed over because they're too small."  
Nik's eyebrows shot up and his voice lowered.  
"Alexei, those islands are a myth. The whole of the seas are controlled. You know that."  
Alex shook his head.  
"Fine. A refuge, then. In Psire territory, maybe."  
Nikolai looked evenly at him.  
"How will you get to a refuge?"  
Alex shrugged.  
"If all else fails, I'll walk." he said, edgily.  
Nik nodded.  
"I see. And what about the colony? You know where to find a colony?"  
Alex shrugged, becoming unsettled.  
"I'll find one! There's got to be one, somewhere near here. I'm sure of it."

With this profession, concern covered Nik's face.  
"Alexander, listen to what you're saying. You can't just run off like that. Not without a plan. Not without anywhere to go. And if you took off, you'd need a way out that wouldn't involve travel by land. The Empire is too extensive to run through, and wolfes are too wise of hunters to hide from. And with the Louts after you as well…"  
Alex's startled face asked the question. Nikolai inclined his head towards the door. "Your wolfe has told me how he came to find you."  
Alex accepted this and moved on.  
"Well, I'm going to find some way out." Alex jumped to his feet and began to pace beside the bed. Nikolai sighed and reached for a glass of water he'd been brought earlier in the afternoon.  
"Why do you want to leave, Alexei? There's nothing wrong with the home we've got here."  
"This isn't our home."  
"And where is? There is no home anymore. It's been overrun. Everything has. You have no home anywhere anymore. Russia? Russia is dead. It’s gone. You saw the Louts burn our homes, destroy our monuments, our museums — our history! All of it, gone. We are all starting over, Alexei – going from the beginning. Won’t you join us, rather than struggling to remember something already becoming distant in your mind?”  
Alex was quiet for a moment.

“We are humans. And that will never change. If we join with them…" he hesitated, then pressed on. "I just want as much of who we were to survive as possible.”  
“We are our greatest security against your fear of disappearance, Alexei! We who can carry on and make families and begin to put human lives back together. Tell me — how would we survive, us humans apart, without the possibility of reproduction?"  
Alex paused, uncertainly, then forged zealously on.  
"We'll figure something out. Humans always do."  
"And if we don't?"  
"We will."  
"But this is what we've figured out, Alexei. Don't you see it? It's symbiosis! We help them, they help us. We all live. What are you proposing as an alternative?"

Alex sat back down on the edge of the bed, deflated and feeling less glorious and more defeated.  
"I can't stand to be forced. You know that. And what if - I mean, if we did find a colony...and I were with..."  
"Then you would give birth in a colony."  
"Without a proper doctor? Without help? I doubt we'd survive! And even if we did, what would I do with the pups?"  
"Alexei. Excuses."  
"Nikolai, I just — "  
"You want this. You know you do. A safe home; children." Alex set his jaw. Nikolai reached out, rested one hand on his brother's forearm. "I was there in Kolyngrad, too. I remember."

Tears, unbidden and unwelcome, burned at the corners of Alex's eyes.  
"I, um, I held another since then. Since you were gone."  
Nik's mouth quirked up in a grin.  
"Oh yeah? When?"  
"Five years ago. In a colony." Alex frowned and picked at the bedcovers, the tears threatening to overwhelm his defenses and burst forward. "But it died."  
Nikolai squeezed the arm under his hand a little.  
"I'm sorry, Alexei."  
"I'm no traitor, Nik."  
"Neither am I."

There was a tense pause, but Nikolai broke it with a resigned sigh and a half grin.  
"You were always so headstrong, Sasha. Always got whatever you wanted. Or whoever." Nik grinned, turning he chastisement into a tease. A thought crossed his mind. "You've been with Garron?"  
"Obviously." Alex muttered in self-conscious reply. "Often." he said, by way of complaint. Nik laughed.  
"Not often enough for him, I think." Nik sobered and gave his brother a sympathetic look. "Why? What's wrong — don't you like it?"  
Alex shrugged.  
"It's OK."  
"Do you like Garron?"

That question, which had been pitching around for months in Alex's stomach, slamming against the walls of his consciousness and shaking up his lucidity and just generally leaving him utterly confused and discombobulated, rose up again. He swallowed down some rising bile.  
"I guess I like him alright."  
Nikolai looked critically at his brother and instantly understood.  
"You're falling in love with him."  
"Nikolai!" Alex leapt off of the bed. "Don't! Don't do that. Don't ever say that again!"  
"Alexei." Nik calmed his brother with just a word.  
"I don't love him."  
"It's OK if — "  
"Leave it alone, Nik, please."  
"It's better, anyway, for you. Wolfes are conquerors by nature; if you don't give them what they want, they'll take it. Better if you come to them, on your terms."  
There was another of those pauses — this one because an unwelcome truth had entered the room.

"They could have made this all much worse for us." Nik pointed out, quietly. Alex flashed back briefly to his time with the Louts, and knew that this was true; the pain, fear, and humiliation — all of those were blissfully lacking here. As gilded cages went, a Wolvish one was top of the line. It was, however, still a cage.  
"I'm just saying, Alexei, that Wolfes are our wisest ally — they will ensure our survival, they're the best shot we have at getting our home back, and they treat us like kings. There's no harm in furthering our alliances with a little genetic assimilation. It goes both ways, you know, and as we combine, so we become stronger. Times are changed, little brother. You should try to keep up."

"I can't."  
"Can't what?" Alex looked uncomfortable, and bit his lip.  
"I can't keep up. I tried. To do like you said — to assimilate."  
"Yeah?" Alex opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to change his mind. He shook his head and mumbled.  
"It's not working. Something's wrong with me."  
"What?"  
"I can't get with. I've tried, hard. Prayed, even. Prayed! Me! And I've been going to the doctors, but..." Alex trailed off and looked away. "I think it might be my fault."  
Nikolai shook his head emphatically.  
"No, Alexei, no. You cannot think that way. It is not your — "  
"I did things...before, to keep from getting with." Alex met Nikolai's eyes, firmly. "To make sure it didn't happen." he looked away then, embarrassed at having shocked his brother. "I think it might have ruined me."  
When Alex looked up at his brother again, Nikolai looked terrified.  
"Alexander…" he began, tentatively, "…that was bad."  
Alex nodded, tears threatening again.  
"I know."  
"Very bad."  
"I know, OK?!"  
"What if you are ruined?"  
Alex shrugged.  
"I don't know."  
"He's going to find out, you know. He's going to find out and he'll be angry."  
"I know," Alex mumbled, pathetically. "But I don't know how to fix it."  
He looked pleadingly into his brother's eyes. Nikolai put one hand to his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Eventually, he resurfaced and looked again at Alex.  
"Confess."

* * *

 **Late Autumn, Year One (10th Moon)**

Alex had intended to confess. Really, he had. But as things go, he was preempted. Garron found out. An old bottle and tube that Alex had forgotten was discovered, and his world promptly caved in. Alex had protested; he'd begged and pleaded and sworn that he hadn't done a rinse in months; he swore that he'd stopped, that he was trying to bear for his wolfe, that he was sorry, but Garron wouldn't hear it. Angry and hurt by what his beta had done, he had forced himself on his mate and beaten him badly enough to warrant an infirmary visit. The doctor didn't even speak to Garron when he brought his mate in — just shook his head and looked so sad.

What followed was an investigation and lockup of all iodine in the complex. Over concerns that its use as a contraceptive might become popular among betas, the substance had been declared contraband and was unavailable to all humans outside of medical workers.

Then Garron had left him alone for almost two weeks. Alex had been terrified the entire time, because the reality of the situation had suddenly struck him: if his alliance with Garron dissolved, then with it went his protection, his security, and, ultimately, his life. He had been so foolish. He should have just acquiesced to the blasted barker's desires. And now...if he had permanently damaged himself, or his fertility, which the doctor had sharply assured him was a definite possibility, then might Garron had grounds to call him a traitor? The possibility loomed over his head. On edge, he waited day after day for his wolfe to return. He saw Garron occasionally, at meals, but his wolfe studiously avoided him, and always disappeared before Alex could get him alone.

* * *

It was evening, and Alex was alone when he heard the knock.  
"Come in." the door slid open and the silhouette of a wolfe appeared on the wall. Alex didn't move.  
"We need to talk."  
"Talk, then."  
Kriston approached the bed, where Alex sat facing the window.  
"My First has been behaving...strangely lately."  
"Oh? I hadn't noticed."  
"Which leads me to believe that he has been having trouble with his beta." Kriston took two more steps into the room and stopped. He lifted his head and sniffed the air. He turned his head to either side, sniffing gently. Sharply, he turned to Alex.  
“Where is my First’s scent?”  
Alex shrugged.  
“He doesn’t sleep here?” Kriston pressed. Alex said nothing. "You don't sleep with your mate?" his tone was nothing but accusation, and Alex bristled.  
"He doesn't sleep with me."

Kriston took a heavy breath in and crossed the room in three steps, and had Alex's throat in his hand immediately.  
"Don't speak insolently to me, you little tral. It's been ages since I've snapped a human's neck, but I am almost eager to do it again."  
Alex stared evenly back at the wolfe, and Kriston’s grip slackened, but only a little.  
"I haven't trusted you, Alexei, since first I met you. Garron may be blinded by his feelings for you, but here is one way in which I am wise. I know you plan to leave him, Alexei, and I welcome you to it. Confess it to me now," Kriston snarled, "And you will have your wish." Alex still didn't answer, just stared. Kriston went on. "I will give you money, papers, transport - whatever you need, under the condition that you never return and never contact my First again. I will not allow this…travesty of a bondship to continue." Kriston released his neck and Alex sucked in a sharp breath.  
"Make your choice now."  
Alex felt a fear he had never acknowledged before, and truth fell from his lips.  
"I don't want to leave him."  
Kriston accepted this.  
"Then go to him."  
Alex was still rubbing at his throat.  
"I can't — he won't listen to me."  
"He will, if you would just go to him. Go to him and be honest - confess everything, without holding back, and show him how you've changed." Kriston raised an eyebrow. "If you really have, that is." he waved a dismissive hand. "Confess to him when he comes home tonight."

Alex felt a stinging behind his eyelids, and tears slipped out before he could stop them.  
"I don't think he is coming home tonight."  
Kriston cocked his head, confused.  
"Where is your mate, Alexei?" he asked, bewildered.  
There was a long, long silence.  
"I don't know." Alex sounded as terrified as he did desperate. "Garron hasn't been home in six days."

Kriston didn't know what to say, just stood in silence. Alex went on.  
"And so you have to believe me when I say that I've tried to talk to him, but...he doesn't answer my calls, and he doesn't come to find me, and he doesn't come home. At meals, he avoids me, and I don't know what to do. I’ve tried to set things right since before, but I think he hates me now."  
"Alexei," Kriston chided. "Garron does not hate you. He's just been hurt by you, badly."  
"I know, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done the iodine, but I stopped, and I tried to get with, I really did. But I can't." Alex started to tear up again. "Something's wrong with me, and I think Garron is going to leave me for a better mate."  
Kriston snorted; his mind was made up.

"I'll find him. You have no idea where he may be right now?" Alex hesitated. "Alexei?"  
"I think he's gone to Julian, his whore." Kriston was shocked by the venom in the human's voice. It changed immediately to pain as he continued to speak. "I think he's going to mate him."  
Kriston didn't speak another word, just spun on his heels and left the room.

* * *

Kriston could smell the wolfe's scent as soon as he turned the hallway to the beta Julian's home. The door got one knock before Kriston kicked it open and stormed into Julian’s home, pushing the half-dressed human aside as he entered.  
“First Alpha Wolfe Kriston!”  
"Where is he?!" Kriston raged.  
"Garron is - "

Reflexively, Kriston spun and threw his weight against the human, forcing him to the wall.  
"You use his title when you speak about your alpha, tral." he snapped, before releasing him roughly and brushing past to search out Garron. He followed his First's scent to the bedroom, and almost reeled back in shock and disgust at the sight before him. Garron was stretched lazily across Julian’s bed, halfway nude and entirely drunk. His First did not look fazed to see him there.

“Get up. You’re going home.”  
“Home? I don’t have a home.” Garron stretched and curled around a pillow. Kriston growled once and crossed the room in a rage. He attempted to pull his First to his feet, but Garron refused to support his own weight and instead landed in a puddle of limbs and fur on the floor. He moaned and Julian moved to go to his side. He was stopped with a vicious snarl from Kriston.  
"If you value your life, I am sure you won't move."  
Julian froze where he was, breath coming in short heaves.

Kriston kicked his First, forcing a response through the inebriation. Garron moaned.  
"Get up! Get up, you drunken lout!"  
Garron growled, able to perceive insult even through the haze. Kriston leaned down closer, his voice deadly.  
"Don't you growl at me when I've just come from comforting your bonded to find you sick on hunna in another beta's bed." he kicked Garron again, forcing a louder growl this time, then turned his attention back to Julian.  
"How much has he had?"  
Julian stammered for a second.  
"I don't - I, um - "  
"How much, beta?" Kriston growled.  
"Four glasses."

Kriston's eyes narrowed.  
"Were you trying to kill him?"  
"I didn't realize, Alpha!" Julian protested, glancing in terror at the collapsed wolfe on the floor. "I just thought maybe one glass would relax him, would help him - "  
"Help him what?" Kriston barked at the beta. "Help him forget he was bonded?"  
"I wasn't - " Julian glanced at the bed and abandoned that lie. "I didn't mean to - "  
"Enough!" Kriston snapped at the human, then kicked Garron once more.

"So this is it, First? This is what you are? This is the respect you have for us, for our pack? For our culture, our ways? He gives you a few glasses of hunna and you abandon your bonded?"  
Garron snapped something back from the floor.  
"What?" Kriston demanded, then kicked him again.  
Garron, teeth bared now, got to all fours.  
"I didn't lie with him!" he snarled. "I just got drunk."  
Kriston, by this point, had tired of this game.

"Enough. Get up, my First, and preserve what little dignity you have left." As he spoke, he managed to drag the wolfe to his feet. "You're lucky I don't take you straight to the Council like this."  
Garron stumbled haltingly alongside Kriston, only managing to remain upright by keeping one arm draped across his Second at all times. Paired, they made their way to the door. Pausing at the exit, Kriston turned back to look at Julian, who had obediently remained in place.

"He won't be back. And neither will you. Pack your things, you slutty jackal; you've earned yourself a transfer out of this pack. If you're quick, I won't let the guards write 'traitor' over everything you own."  
Julian's eyes dropped submissively, and he neither spoke nor moved until Kriston was completely gone from his quarters and had closed the door behind him. Then he began to pack.


	4. Communication

**Second Winter, Year One (12th Moon)**

When Garron had finally come back, Alex was unspeakably grateful. He'd thrown himself at his wolfe, desperate to reassure them both of his place in the Empire, and in Garron's life. Garron had accepted him, but only physically. It was another month before he would address Alex directly, and three months more before they shared anything like closeness between them. But time went on, and eventually, they became something like reconciled. Their life together leveled off to something reliable, and even happy.

But after three more months of sex had passed, with no results, Garron became suspicious again. Alex, who had not been in particularly good health since his self-abuse, fell into a weak depression and deteriorated further. What weight he had gained since their reconciliation he was losing exponentially, and Garron, not entirely aware of the causes of his mate's difficulty, but still frustrated with his infertility, had insisted that they see the Doctor. Together. Tomorrow.

* * *

"I believe the reason," the doctor began, strolling across the small office and back towards his desk, "for your...trouble," here he gestured vaguely with his hand, "is three-fold. First Alpha Mate Alex's problems with malnutrition and exhaustion in the past are sure to contribute. At present, Alex, you are sixteen pounds underweight. After much observation, I also worry about Alex's adjustment to life here in the compound; you seem to suffer from extreme anxiety, which is likely also an impediment to success."

Garron frowned as the doctor flipped through some of the papers in the file in his hands.   
"He needs to increase his body fat before he will take well to a pregnancy."   
Alex said nothing as Garron shifted anxiously in his seat. He was uncomfortable, Alex noticed, under the scrutinizing stare of the doctor.  
"Feed him more?"  
"I can feed myself." Alex interjected snappily.  
"Feed him better." the Doctor corrected. "He needs more meat and more starch in his diet. And a little regular exercise wouldn't hurt, but don't let him overdo it. A walk or two a day should be fine." Alex crossed his arms over his chest.   
"I like to run."  
"You can run all you want once you're healthy again." the Doctor responded, efficiently silencing the young human in front of him. "But the largest problem, Alex, is really all up here." the Doctor tapped his head with one finger.

“Garron.” the Doctor turned to address the concerned-looking wolfe to his right, and it occurred to Alex that he had never heard his mate called without title before. “Your mate needs a better environment. You can’t expect him to heal if you keep skulking around the place, locking him in your wing like a criminal, barely even speaking to him – I’ve seen the way you treat him and it is despicable. Not to mention our incident a few moons back. Anyone else, Garron, would have been locked away for that. You’re behaving like a spoiled varon, wolfe, and for a leader of a pack, it is absolutely disgusting.”

Garron was silent after the short dressing-down, and Alex felt spurred to silence as well.  
“Alexei,” the Doctor continued, “for your part, you have to try. I know things are very different, and I know it’s not exactly what you want. I know you dream of going home — all humans do. But the sooner you accept, the sooner you can adjust. Garron and I can talk to you, and bribe you and promise and beat you, but in the end, you simply must try. And if you have any feelings at all for your wolfe, then that is exactly what you will do.”

The Doctor sent them both home with chastising speeches about communication between mates and strict instructions about Alex's diet. In their quarters, Alex retreated to sulk in the bathroom, trailed closely by a servant who had orders to prevent him harming himself or further degrading his health. The presence of the servant made him sulk even more.

When he emerged from the bath, Garron was gone.


	5. Damon

**First Winter, Year Two (2nd Moon)**

"First Alpha! Second Alpha!" You've got to come and have a look at this one!" the voice of one of the hunting party called to Kriston and Garron from behind a clump of thick bushes to their left. The two made their way over leisurely, sniffing the air as they went. The wind smelled of human, and so they arrived, eager, to see what the pack had discovered.

He was a human, no question about it, but a small one. Not small so much as undernourished. It was clear that he hadn't eaten well in a while, and his clothes, face, and hair were dirty. Six of the pack had backed him into a corner against the group of bushes, and were observing him curiously. The young man, to his credit, seemed unfazed by their proximity, and stood brandishing a saber, which he jabbed sharply at any of the wolfes when they got too close.

The six were taking great pleasure in teasing him, approaching from one side or the other, taking turns keeping him off-guard. As soon as one wolfe got close enough, he'd push at the young man with his nose, startling him just enough to make him turn so that a wolfe on the opposite side could do the same. The young man probably thought he was being tortured; the wolfes thought it was a riot. Kriston shooed them away, changing back into his human form, and held his hands out to approach the man.   
"Easy."  
"Leave me alone." his voice had no waver to it as he tightened his grip on the blade. Kriston admired his courage. Facing down an unfamiliar wolfe, even one in human form, was usually at least a bit intimidating. Especially for a half-starved human.   
"Just take it easy. Nobody's going to hurt you." Kriston made a gesture, and behind him, the six wolves retreated, only one more slowly than the rest.

The human didn't look impressed.  
"Stay back!" his voice had risen a little and Kriston could smell the fear on him.   
"I don't want to hurt you."  
"No, you want to eat me."   
Kriston laughed.   
"Reports of our voracity for humans have been greatly exaggerated."  
The man didn't look convinced. In fact, he looked annoyed.  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
"It means we don't eat people."  
"That's a lie!" he jabbed forward, and Kriston moved sideways to avoid the blade.  
"Alright," he conceded, "There's been the occasional sociopath. But on the whole, wolfes don't eat humans. And on a smaller level, I don't intend to do a thing to you." the man looked even more annoyed.  
"If you're going to eat me, just say so."   
Kriston sighed; this conversation was becoming faintly ridiculous.

"Listen, we don't want to hurt you - "  
"You said that. What do you want, then?" the other wolfes had tired of this sport and began to urge Garron on. He darted off with them into the shadows.  
"To help you. Let us take you home. You can eat there, get clean-"  
"Not a chance. It's the gingerbread house all over again."   
Kriston didn't quite understand this reference, but continued.   
"We'll take care of you." He took a step closer.   
"No. And not another inch closer."  
"You're not stronger than I am."  
"I know. But I bet I can shiv you pretty good and still have enough left to put up a fight when you try to eat me."  
"Look, nobody's trying to eat you!"  
"Kriston." Garron reappeared in human form from behind one of the larger trees, and Kriston turned to greet him.

That split second exploded into pain and Kriston looked down in shock to where blood was pouring freely from a newly sliced wound. He looked back up in time to see the young man's back as he took off into the woods. Then he was on the ground and Garron was beside him, telling him, between chuckles, not to talk. As he drifted out of it, he heard in the distance screaming and the sound of a chase.

* * *

Garron was still laughing when Kriston came out of it the next morning. He winced and sat up in bed.   
"Yes, by all means, laugh. My attempted murder is quite humorous - do continue in your mirth." Garron snorted and laughed unapologetically.   
"He's quite small, you know."   
"He caught me by surprise." Kriston growled.  
"And we, him." this piqued the injured wolfe's interest.  
"You have him?"   
Garron nodded.   
"I sent the others off after him and brought you back here. Had to nearly pry him from them. Half wanted to kill him, and half - well, you know."  
"I assume the angry end was Peron's half?"  
"Who else? It was a very unsatisfying trip for me, as hunts go. I go out looking for fresh meat and end up babysitting my best friend in the infirmary the entire night."

Garron chuckled again, and shook his head. "Wounded by a human." he sang quietly to himself and Kriston snarled.   
"Will I have to prove to you that my teeth are still sharp?"  
"Maybe after you've healed up a bit. It'd be risky to do it now. If a half-starved human could do this, then one of our healthy nurses might try to break up the fight and accidentally kill you."   
Kriston growled, then laughed.  
"I want to see him."  
"I knew you would."  
"Is he comfortable?"  
"He's been fed, if that's what you mean. He was a bit surly about anything else happening. Insisted we were all trying to eat him. Very uninviting."

Kriston nodded.   
"I'll see to him."  
"You've got a lot of work ahead of you."   
Kriston paused mid-stretch.  
"What do you mean, my First?"  
Garron smiled indulgently.  
"There's no need for pretense. You're among friends. I know you favor him."  
"He is handsome." Kriston observed. "But I have no use for another means to shorten my life. I'll find him a suitable home, but I won't be keeping him."   
"You haven't got any mate." Garron pointed out.  
"And neither had you, until about a year ago." Kriston countered.  
"The Council would be delighted to have both their Alphas mated." Garron pressed.

Kriston exhaled in annoyance.  
"I'm not certain that I entirely care where the Council stands on the particular issue of who I lie down with and for how long."  
"Well, alright." Garron got to his feet. "I can see you're going to be stubborn about it. I've just been here to be sure you would come out of it all right. I'll call a nurse and we'll see about getting you something for the pain."   
Kriston dropped his head back against the pillow.  
"Thank you, my First." he said, and Garron nodded.   
"I'll see you later in the day."  
"At the 16 meal."  
"16-meal, then." Garron turned to go, but paused in the doorway. "I think you'll reconsider your intentions for this man after you've seen him."  
Kriston grunted.  
"I saw him last night, immediately before he stabbed me."  
"Yes," Garron said, and smiled, "But you haven't seen his eyes."

On that note, the gray wolfe winked and left the room. Kriston watched him go through the glass, wondering what the hell that could have meant.

* * *

Kriston went to the cell immediately after he left the infirmary, taking with him a bundle of food; assorted meats, some fruit, a boiled egg, and a few packets of juice. When he arrived, the cell seemed empty. He frowned and entered, looking about. No signs of the man. Then, a voice from underneath the bed.  
"Leave the food and go."   
Kriston smiled. It was the same one, no doubt.   
"I'm afraid I can't do that."  
"Why not?"   
"Because I'm here to talk to you."  
"Why?"  
"I want to get to know you."  
"Playing with your food?"   
Kriston sighed in frustration.  
"I told you I'm not going to eat you. Now stop saying that."

The voice paused.  
"Why am I in a cell? I'm not a criminal. Or an animal."  
"Well, in all fairness," Kriston said, somewhat bitterly, "You did try to kill me last night. And you are quite dirty."  
"That was self-defense. And I’ve been busy. You know, keeping alive and everything."  
Kriston smiled.  
"Self defense, was it? Well, thank that little excuse for keeping you alive." Kriston opened his bundle. "Will you come out and eat now?"

The voice, still underneath the bed, was tentative.  
"What've you got?"  
"Come out and have a look."   
First an arm appeared from under the bed. A second arm followed, and then a head.  
"Is anyone else here?"  
"Just me." The head turned into a neck and shoulders. The man wriggled out, but didn't leave his corner. Kriston sighed. "Are you coming over, or shall I?"

The man eyed the wolfe suspiciously, and Kriston sighed and rolled him an orange. He snatched it up when it got close enough and took a bite.  
"That's disgusting."  
"What?" he looked sincerely surprised around his mouthful of orange peel.  
"You're not supposed to eat that part."  
"Says who?"  
"Normal people."  
"Ah. Not hungry people, then."

Kriston laughed at this.   
"Come closer."   
"No."  
"Alright, then what's your name?"   
The young man shifted into a cross-legged position.  
"What's it to you?"  
"Curiosity." For some reason, this answer seemed to satisfy the human, and he swallowed another bite of orange.  
"Damon."  
"That's a handsome name."   
Damon paused.   
"You really think so?"  
"I don't lie."   
Damon's mouth quirked into a little bit of a grin. Kriston edged closer.  
"What are you doing?" Damon demanded, clutching his orange close to himself and backing away.  
"I just want to see something."  
"What - if you can get close enough for me to shiv you again?"   
Kriston sighed impatiently.  
"Your eyes, you silly little human, I want to see your eyes."   
"Oh." Damon locked his gaze on the floor.   
"Come, don't be shy about it." Kriston urged, then added, ironically, "I'll be gentle."

Damon glanced up to give him a weird look, and Kriston took the opportunity to catch Damon's chin in one hand and lift his face, drawing a thumb across the cheek as he did so. Garron had been right. Those eyes...had he ever seen a human with eyes that color? Not even close. Damon's were a lovely pale gold, strikingly close to the color of a barley field in sunset and penetrating beyond comprehension. Kriston found himself almost immediately lost in them.

Then, tempted and taken, wanting to know more, he brushed his thumb smoothly across Damon's lips to feel their texture. It was only a stupid, momentary, self-indulgence, but it ruined everything. Damon froze mid-chew and looked up at Kriston. Still caught in a sensory labyrinth, Kriston moved his other hand towards Damon's hair, but the human jerked away from his hand and his face lit with terror.  
"Don't." This protest came out less like a command and more like a plea.  
"Damon?"  
"Don't! Please?" he edged away.  
"Damon, love, calm down."  
"Don't touch me, don't."  
"You've got to talk to me."   
Damon scrambled away.  
"Leave me alone!"  
"What's wrong?"  
"Why did you touch me like that?"   
"Damon."  
“Answer me!”  
Kriston nearly growled:  
“Because I _wanted_ to. Because you are...entrancing.”

Damon stared back at him in silence, and Kriston, concerned now, reached out to touch him once again. Like a shot, the human snapped backwards, trembling visibly.  
"They were right. The stories were right. I didn't think they were, but they are."  
"What stories?" Kriston tried to get closer.  
"Stay away! I'll kill you before I let you make me your whore."  
"Damon." Damn. He knew. It was too soon. "It's not like that." Damon was huddled into a corner now. "I will never treat you like that."

The human ignored Kriston's assurances in favor of retreating back as far as possible into his corner.  
"It makes sense now. The stories were true. They were all true. Nobody ever comes back. You're keeping them, aren't you?"  
Kriston frowned.  
"Well, not me, particularly..."  
"You’re…attracted to us. To our species! You make us your…your concubines, don't you? You make us – “ here, Damon had to stop and take a few deliberate breaths to keep from passing out. “Oh, I was so stupid. I was so stupid. You don't want to eat me."  
"I told you that before." Kriston pointed out. "You didn't listen to me." he complained, shifting into a more comfortable position on the floor.  
"Stay back!" the human shouted, and brandished an orange at his captor.  
"Damon - "  
"I'll bite!"  
Kriston frowned. This was going poorly. He raised both hands in surrender and spoke urgently to the human.  
"Listen to me! No one is going to touch you, alright? No one is going to eat you, or hurt you, or make you do anything, alright? But you have to calm down, and you have to learn to listen. At this moment, I am responsible for you. And I am also the Second Alpha of this Pack, which makes two good reasons why you're going to have to listen to me."   
Damon shook his head.  
"Not good enough."  
"Fine!" Kriston snarled. "I outweigh you, I outrun you, and I have teeth that can crush human bones, so when I say listen, you do it. Better logic?"

The human looked wary, then gave a little snarl of his own.  
"Get away from me, monster!" he snapped.  
Kriston sighed and relented, scooting backwards several feet so that he sat against the opposite wall of the cell.  
"Better?"  
"Maybe."  
"Will you answer a few questions?"  
"Will they get me out of here?"  
"Maybe." Kriston answered truthfully.  
"Fine." Damon put his orange in his mouth and wriggled back under the bed. Two golden eyes stared suspiciously out at Kriston.  
"Where are you from?"

This question had been nagging at the back of Kriston's mind since they'd first found the man. He was too skinny to have eaten well, but there was no way he could have been living in the woods. They were no man's land for humans after nightfall. That meant he had to have come from somewhere nearby. He was armed, which made it unlikely that he was a Lout or Psire runaway, since neither would have ever allowed a human near a weapon. The likeliest possibility was a human compound, but the area had been searched and none had been found.

"I live with other humans."  
"Where?"  
"Not telling." there was a muffled chewing sound. "If I tell, then you'll go looking for them, too." Fair enough. "I don't know where they are now, anyway." This part he said with a note of resignation.  
"They left you?"  
"Yes."  
"Why?"  
"I got separated. Then lost. They couldn't wait."  
"Is that why you were alone in the woods?"  
"Yes."  
"You're very lucky, then." there was a pause.  
"Am I?"  
"We could have been a pack of dumbwolves."   
"At least they're sincere about eating humans."  
"Listen, that's just a rumor. Nobody here eats humans."  
"Apparently not, otherwise you'd never get any mates."

"My First." A voice from outside of the bars interrupted the interaction.  
"Ah, Peron." Kriston acknowledged awkwardly. At the sight of another wolfe, there was a rustling, and Kriston saw that Damon had wriggled back underneath his bed. "You may as well stay out there. He's a bit wolfe-shy."  
"Delightful." Peron deadpanned, and Kriston laughed.  
"Oh, Peron. You can't keep that distaste alive forever. You'll find a mate and then your tune will change, I guarantee it."  
"If that day ever comes, My First, I hope that you would be merciful."  
Kriston raised an eyebrow.  
"That's a bit extreme. Perhaps you're in greater need of a warm bed than I had anticipated." Peron ignored this.  
"I came to tell you, My First, that there are questions in the compound. And rumors."  
"Both? Already? News does travel fast in small circles. Who's been talking?"  
"Everyone. The Elders, mostly. They want to know what you intend to do with this one."

Here, Peron nodded his head towards the hiding Damon, who shrank back from the wolfe's gaze. Something about that wolfe frightened him. His looks lingered just a bit too long.

"Shit." Kriston dropped his head down and rubbed one hand over the back of his neck. "Well, I don't - "  
"If you are unwilling, First, then perhaps the BRC - "  
"I'm not sending him to the damn BRC. They'll ruin him."   
Peron's look darkened.  
"He has proven himself quite dangerous, My First."  
"Dangerous?" Kriston snorted. "He got lucky. Once. It won't happen again."   
Peron appeared mildly irritated, but controlled it.  
"What should I tell the Elders, First Alpha? They are quite...curious."  
"You mean demanding." Kriston sighed. "Fine. Tell them that I'll have him. Bring me his papers."

Damon, who had been silent during the exchange, spoke up once Peron left. His voice was quiet; not defeated, but definitely fearful.  
"I have papers?”  
"Everyone who comes through here has papers. I have papers myself.”  
"What are those papers for?”  
"What papers?”  
Damon looked exasperated.  
"The ones you asked for.”  
Kriston wasn’t sure how, or if he should answer that.  
"Bonding records.”  
"Bonding?”  
"Uh, it will connect us to each other in – “  
"Marriage.”  
Kriston shrugged. That was roughly it.  
"Yes.”  
"No.”

Kriston was taken aback, and, truth be told, a little offended. There were worse wolfes to be bonded to than him, he felt.  
"Well, I don’t know that you have a choice, human.” he answered shortly, then heard the harshness in his own voice and regretted it. There was no honor in snapping at a half-traumatized beta.  
"You're going to make me bond with you?” Damon inquired, nervously and sincerely.  
Embarrassed by his own behavior towards someone so naïve, Kriston shook his head.  
"No. A bonding cannot be forced, little one.”  
"But a mating can be forced.” Damon replied, then looked probingly up at Kriston, his face partially obscured by the corner of the bed. “Can't it?”  
The wolfe blinked at his newfound little human, then looked away.  
"Yes, human,” he said, and his voice had a note of apology in it – not for actions done or not done, but for the simple unfairness of the fact. “A mating can be forced.”

Damon drew back a little then, as if he hadn't truly been expecting that answer.  
"So?”  
"So.” Kriston met his eyes evenly.  
"So you're going to rape me, then.”  
"No, Damon – "  
"Are you going to kill me afterwards?" Kriston looked at his new mate in horror.  
"What?! Kill you? Of course not! Why would I kill my mate? What in the hell gave you that idea?"  
Damon wriggled out a little from underneath the bunk.   
"That wolfe. He told me -"  
"Told you what?" there was an edge to Kriston's voice that scared Damon, and he shook his head and skidded back under the bed.  
"Nothing. I don't remember."  
"My First?" Kriston turned to find Peron standing patiently, holding several papers and a small bag. "I can ready him for you, if you like."  
Kriston looked skeptically over his shoulder at the wolfe behind him.  
"Thank you, Peron, but I'll take him myself."  
"The Council is waiting for you, First Alpha. It would be less trouble - "  
"They can wait longer. We'll be out shortly, Wolfe Peron." Kriston's tone dismissed him, and Peron nodded mutely and set the things down by Damon's cell, then left.

* * *

Half an hour later, Damon was taken, under strict guard, out of his cell and up to Kriston's wing, where he was shown the sitting room and instructed not to leave the area. He sat on a small chair that seemed to be haphazardly placed in the center left of the room.  
"Where am I?" he demanded.  
"You're in my home."  
"Your lair?"   
Kriston shot him a withering glare.  
"My home."  
Damon eyed the quarters skeptically.  
"What did you bring me here for?"  
"I had the grave misfortune of claiming you while we were in the secondary levels. You're to be my bondmate. You live here now."  
"Oh.” Damon’s fingers played idly on the patterned fabric of the chair. “Is this what happens to all the people like me?”   
“Humans, you mean?” Kriston tilted his head, wondering where this was going.  
“I mean your whores.”  
“Damon, stop it. You are not a whore.”  
“A victim, then.”  
“Damon - “  
"How about we just agree that I was kidnapped?”  
“You were not kidnapped. It was a rescue.”  
“Right. Rescue.”  
“You could show a little appreciation.”  
Damon just ignored him.  
“You could also show a little respect.” the wolfe added.

This lit a fire, and Damon’s indifference switched to anger.  
“To you? Show respect to you? To the one who invaded my planet, destroyed my society and drove my species underground, kidnapped me, and now has plans to violate me to boot? You want me to respect you?"  
Kriston was feeling too short of patience to deal with this.

"Fine. Go back to the cells then." Kriston got up to leave, leveling a cold stare at Damon. “The guards can fight like dogs over who gets to have you first." he tilted his head as if pondering this. "Perhaps they’ll all take turns this time and won't go two at once like before.”   
Damon looked utterly, utterly sick with fear.  
"No, wait!" Re-assessing the situation led to the conclusion that, if rumors were true and Kriston didn't lie, Damon was far better off with the wolfe in his quarters than without him in the prison. "Don't take me back down there."

Kriston narrowed his eyes and glared at the human with an annoyed, suspicious expression.  
“Why shouldn't I?"  
Damon hesitated, unable to supply a response; his breath came in short, insufficient bursts that made him feel dizzy and disoriented.  
“I don't - I didn't - this isn’t fair.” he whined, and dropped suddenly into a sitting position on the carpeted floor. Kriston sighed, then sat next to his new mate.

“That’s the same thing our people said, thirty-seven years ago, when the Plague first struck.” Damon didn’t respond, so Kriston went on. “It’s why we’re here, you know.” Damon maintained a facade of apathy, but his muscles tensed and Kriston knew he was listening. “Arem'mir was a paradise before this. Our people were efficient, careful, kind, and sustainable. We were poised to take control of this galaxy as well as our own. But then, our enemies, our ex-bretheren, attacked. They released a plague that ravaged our world. It killed nearly half of the children, sterilized what females it left alive. In vitro fertilization was attempted; most of it failed and we soon discovered that we had been genetically affected. As a race, we were ruined. So we put down our weapons and we left. We had to go looking for a way to survive; just someplace new, to begin again; that was when we found you, Erim. Your home was in the midst of so many changes – some of them, like the Louts, so dangerous. We wanted to end the war that our brothers had started, and yes, we also saw a new opportunity to save ourselves. So we did both.”

If the story satisfied Damon, he didn’t show it. Kriston trailed off, not really wanting to relive the past anymore. He turned his attention back to his mate.  
"But I am not a monster, Damon."

A silence followed, and Kriston thought he felt something like sympathy - perhaps in the set of the shoulders or the straightness of the back that was turned to him - emanating from the little human. He brushed it away and stood.  
"You should get settled in.”  
Damon looked around the apartment, then hesitated.  
"Where should I sleep?"  
"In the bedroom."  
Damon's pupils dilated ever so slightly, and Kriston heard his heartbeat pick up.  
"With you."

It was a statement, not a question, and so Kriston just nodded and headed off into the other room.   
"I don't even know your name." Damon said, mostly to himself, although sensitive wolfe ears heard.   
"Kriston." the wolfe replied. "It's Second Alpha Wolfe Kriston Narrin'tel of the ColdRiver Pack on Erim."

Kriston returned, shortly, with a pile of cloth – bath linens, some robes that would be too big but would suffice until they had something better, and extra blankets for the sparse bed. He set them down in front of Damon and explained each one. The human listened, dutifully but listlessly, until the wolfe had finished.  
"So." Kriston said.  
"So."  
"So this is our home.”  
"This is _your_ home."

Kriston growled, but it was a tired growl that had no teeth in it.  
"Fix your attitude."   
"Let me go."  
"I can't do that and you know it."  
"You can; you just won't because you want - " There was an awkward pause over the unspoken end.

"I promise," Damon began slowly, obviously deciding on one last pitch for freedom, "I'm no danger. I'm no threat, and I'll never tell anyone what I've seen." Kriston exhaled sharply when Damon's eyes, pleading, looked up into his. "I'll disappear! I promise."  
Kriston turned regretfully away.  
"I'm certain you will. That's the problem." he went over to the window and peered out.

"I could release you. You're right about that. But I doubt you could make it out of this compound, let alone the pack's territory, without some other wolfe taking you first. And if you managed to get beyond that, into the borderlands? Then you might still be taken; only this time by a rabid wolfe, or a lone, or an exile, and because he won't be bound to any standards of behavior, he'll do with you whatever he likes and no one will stop him. And even if you did make it the first night without capture? Then what? When we found you, you were shivering, you were starving, and night was falling. You said it yourself - your pack, they've all left you. They had to. And if they're smart, then they're long gone from here. Where will you go? Would you expect us to just leave you in the woods, to be eaten or mauled, or at best, made into a wife for some barbaric Lout? Is that what you want?" Kriston shook his head. "Not my humans. Not my mate. Not while I am Alpha here."

Damon was very, very quiet when Kriston finished.  
"So what else can I do?" he asked, in a small voice.   
Kriston took a moment, then turned away, stepping up to a counter across the room to pour himself a drink.   
"You can stay here. With me. Let me bond with you." for some reason, as if it would matter, he felt compelled to add, "It's what the Council wants."  
Damon nodded, and caught between his teeth was the whole right half of his bottom lip, which made the left pout out so perfectly...  
"Is that my only option?"  
The wolfe hesitated.  
"No. You can leave me."  
"And then what?"  
Kriston took a sip from his brightly-colored glass.  
"Take your chances in the Pack. Go to the Beta Academy. Learn a trade. Choose another mate."  
Damon frowned.  
"But I will have to choose a mate, eventually."  
"Betas who have not yet carried a litter by twenty-seven years of age are forcibly bred." Kriston said, by way of an answer. Damon's breath caught in his throat. Trying to comfort him, Kriston added, "But you will not be forced. Not with me. I am the Second Alpha Wolfe of one of the largest packs on this world. You will never find a better life than with me."

Damon shook his head, the bewilderment overwhelming him.  
"Why _me_?"  
"Because I want you."  
"How can you? You don't even know me."  
"I would like to; if you'd let me. This is the way things are done in the Wolvish life - we do not have to know each other to bond. The Old Ones say that a Wolfe knows his mate from the moment he sees her. But we must have mutual respect and minds open to the possibility of loving each other. Time will tend the rest."

Damon looked uncertainly at Kriston.  
"I'm not a 'her'."  
"It's an old adage."  
There was another long, contemplative pause.

"If my family comes back, I’ll run away, you know.”  
Kriston swallowed.  
"Understood."  
There was some tension in the room now, because it had become apparent that Damon was approaching acquiescence.

"Don't get the wrong impression."  
"I haven't."  
"Don't think that this means that I'm your...your soulmate or some shit."  
"Don't swear."  
"It's just that right now, I don't have anywhere else to go."  
"I understand."  
"And I don't like to gamble on my future."  
"OK."  
They just stared at each other across space for a moment, then Damon looked down, and away.   
"I don't know what you expect from me - "  
"Are you tired?"  
"What?"  
"Tired. Do you want to go to bed? When I came to get you, you didn't look as if you'd slept well during your night in the secondary levels."

Damon shrugged this off.  
"I was afraid. What makes you think I'll sleep better here?"  
Kriston smiled a hopeful little smile at the human.  
"You won't have to be afraid.” he answered, sincerely. "And my bed is softer than that pile of blankets on the ground.”   
Damon scoffed.  
"I've been sleeping on the ground for eighteen years."  
"Well, you're my mate now, and you don't have to do that anymore."

Damon shook his head and eyed the room around him once more.  
"So what are you going to do with me?" he asked again, almost like a child who kept wishing the answer to his request would change.  
"I thought that was clear."   
Damon looked distant for a moment before responding.  
"I'm your..." he struggled for a word. "...boyfriend?"  
Kriston smiled broadly, and an intimidating pair of canines appeared.  
"No. I'm far too old for that."  
"How old are you?" Damon interjected, suddenly interested.  
"Thirty eight. Ages old in wolvish time. To be bonded, at least." Kriston laughed at himself, then quieted as a thought occurred to him.  
"How old are you?"  
"Near twenty-one."   
Kriston raised an eyebrow appraisingly.  
"Not even birthing age."  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Damon demanded, and Kriston abruptly realized his mistake.  
"Nothing. Wolvish females were allowed their first - " Kriston paused and struggled to remember the word humans used, then gave up, " - pup around that age. It was a milestone of adulthood."

"Oh." Damon said, and fell silent again.  
Changing the subject, Kriston asked,  
"Would you like a bath?"  
Damon thought about it, then nodded warily.  
"Good. You're hurting my nose." Damon looked affronted. "Follow me."

Kriston picked up the linens and led Damon away, through the sitting room and into a narrow room stacked with linen. He picked out another towel and began to move on to the bathing area. Damon halted.  
"What's the other one for?"   
Kriston shrugged.  
"I'll bathe with you."  
"Not on your life."  
"Why not?"  
"I'm not that easy."  
"I’m not going to attack you.”  
"I’m not going to give you the opportunity.”

In the end, Kriston caved, and Damon went to bathe alone.


	6. How To Live With A Wolfe

**Spring, Year Two (3rd Moon)**

"You're being unreasonable." Kriston was standing with his arms folded, gritting his teeth, barely keeping himself from growling at his soon-to-be bondmate.  
"No, I'm not."  
"Damon - "  
"You said I wasn't your prisoner. I'm not at your beck and call; I can do as I like."  
Kriston restrained a growl again.  
"I'm not asking you to be at my beck and call. I'm just telling you that you must come to dinner tonight. This is not a matter of personal choice – it's diplomacy."  
"I don't feel like it."  
“But it's the Spring Festival. The rest of the pack is expecting to see you there."  
“I don't care."  
Kriston exhaled, exasperated.  
“We have visitors in from around the continent! People want to meet you!"  
Damon shrugged and went back to burying his head in the pillows.  
“Maybe I don't want to meet them."  
Kriston growled, deeply, which caught Damon's attention for a moment.  
“You are the Alpha's mate. You don't ignore your own people. You have to come. Please."  
"No. Fuck off." It felt like there was less than a half a second's pause before Damon was flipped over, on his back on the bed, with Kriston growling less than half an inch from his face.  
“You will never speak that way to me. Never." Damon opened his mouth to reply, but Kriston's grip moved to his throat and silenced him. "Ever." Kriston released his throat and got off of him. "Now," he said, brushing himself off, "For the last time, Damon, will you please come with me to the banquet?"  
Damon, who was glaring at the wolfe and rubbing his throat, shook his head.  
"Never. Ever."  
Kriston growled and turned on his heel. The door slammed shut behind him.

~~~

Downstairs, Garron and the other upper officers greeted him.  
“No luck?” Garron inquired, cheerily, and Kriston wanted to snarl at him. What right did he have to be in such a good mood during the Spring Festival when Kriston was in such a terrible one? Garron, whose mate had taken on so fully and perfectly the responsibilities of his role; who had organized the banquet itself as well as half of the celebrations afterwards; who had negotiated with his wolfe that this would be the year in which he would carry his mate's first litter, a challenge on which the two had probably been furiously working all springtime. Kriston grunted. And his own mate, who wouldn't even come out of the room.  
“No.” he answered, shortly, dressing in his warrior's clothes, “No luck.”  
Garron laughed good-naturedly.  
“Well, that will all change in time, Kriston, you'll see. And then you'll barely be able to remember this time, and he'll be so embarrassed he won't want you to mention it.” Garron chuckled again. “The Spring Festival when the Alpha's mate locked himself in his room.”  
Kriston didn't laugh, and his stiff silence did not go unnoticed by the other wolfes. One, in particular, stepped forward to speak in a low voice to him.  
“First Alpha Wolfe Kriston,” Péron began, “If I might be so bold.”  
The addressed wolfe rolled his eyes.  
“What is it, Péron?” he asked tiredly.  
The wolfe bowed shortly, then spoke.  
“If you are having trouble with your mate, my First, serious trouble, then perhaps you might consider allowing him to visit, for a short time, our Rehabilitation Centre.”  
Garron raised an eyebrow, but didn't interrupt. Kriston hesitated.  
“I don't need to send my mate away.” he answered, sharply. Péron raised two hands as if to fend off that accusation.  
“No, My First, I did not mean to imply so. Just...some betas are more difficult than others. And as the Alpha of our pack, perhaps it would be too consuming for you to spend so much time improving your mate's behavior. The BRC could do it for you, in just a few weeks, My First. And your mate would be well taken care of – he would be unharmed. He would be given all the best attention of our counselors, as befits the Alpha's mate.”  
Garron looked between Kriston and Péron. Kriston seemed to be considering it, or at least not immediately discrediting the idea.  
“I believe it would be wise.” Péron added, simply, before stepping away.  
Kriston nodded, then finished doing up the laces on his armor and avoided Garron's eyes.  
“I'll consider it.” he said. “I'll think about it.”

* * *

 **Spring, Year Two (4th Moon)**

Kriston threw his beta into the room, roughly releasing the grip on his arm. Damon laid where he'd been dropped, too weak to fight about it. Kriston turned to Alex.  
"Fix him."  
Alex stared bemusedly at Garron.  
"Fix him how?"  
"Make him act...nice.”  
"Act nice.” Alex repeated, slowly. Kriston huffed in indignation.  
"More docile."  
"Well, how docile do you want him?" Alex looked down skeptically at the man lying prone on the floor. "He seems pretty low-key to me."  
"He has to be docile enough to carry."

At this, Damon's head snapped up, his spirit refueled.  
"Carry? For you? Like hell I will." Damon struggled to a sitting position and raised his chin defiantly. "You'll kill me first."  
Kriston slapped him, hard across the face. Then, turning his attention back to Alex, he clarified,  
"Psychologically docile."

Kriston set his jaw and crossed his arms over his chest. The matter had already been settled in his mind.  
"He has to be mentally, as well as physically prepared to carry."  
"I'll starve myself!" Damon interrupted. "I will! I'm not having puppies.'' He spat out the last word like poison. "Especially not _your_ puppies." he added, for effect.  
Kriston growled until a glare from Alex quieted him.

"Enough. Kriston - out."  
The wolfe hesitated, and Alex looked pointedly towards the door. Damon narrowed his eyes at the departing figure.  
"I'll starve myself. You'll kill me!" Kriston bristled and paused at the door, turning back to Alex.  
"Teach him some discipline before I have to do it myself." he warned, then spun on his heel and left.

As the door slammed, Alex turned to face Damon.  
"Well, you are just one pretty idiot, aren't you?"  
"I'll be one pretty idiot without a litter." he responded. Alex rolled his eyes.  
"And how long do you think that's really going to last? Take it from someone who knows - there are better options than what you're doing now."  
Damon scoffed.  
"I don't need your charity." he sneered.  
Alex stared in disbelief for a minute, then shook his head.  
"Headstrong, rude, and an idiot." he got up and went over to help the younger man off of the floor and into a chair. "I'm on your side, you know, asshole."  
"Nobody's on my side but me."  
Alex took in a short calming breath.

"Right. Well, at least I've been in your position before. You've never been in mine. So let me tell you what I know."  
Damon didn't protest, so Alex took that as acceptance.  
"So I bet you think that being accepted as his mate has made you safe, don't you? You're thinking that since you're more or less stuck together now, he's just going to have to put up with whatever ridiculous behavior you can come up with - is that about right?"  
Damon shrugged.  
"Right. Well, you're an idiot. Because, first of all, you're not mated yet. You're not mated, you're not bonded, and Kriston technically owes you nothing. You think you're the first crazy human they've come by? You keep acting like this and the Council will declare you an unfit beta. They do that and you're out. Exiled at worst, sent to the BRC for indefinite rehabilitation at best. Nobody likes this option. You don't like eating the mashed up human chow they serve in that place every day. Kriston doesn't like sleeping alone. Nobody wins. So we avoid that. Option two: you manage, somehow, to get yourself bonded to Kriston, but you get so out of control about the litter that they end up having to force-breed you. Now only you lose. Kriston gets what he wants, the Council gets what they want, and you're equally as powerless and unpleasant as you are now."

Damon hesitated, and glanced up at Alex with those mesmerizing golden eyes.  
"Well, what - what's my other option?"  
"Well, you played the pissed-off mate card far too early, so that's off the table. Kriston's probably so used to your cranky attitude by now that he wouldn't even notice if it got worse. You don't have much here, honestly. So you're going to have to give something to get something. Tell him you'll have the litter - "  
"No!"  
Alex sighed a long-suffering sigh and continued.  
"Tell him you'll have the litter, but only under certain conditions."  
"And then?"  
"And then name those conditions. After all your antics, it'll probably seem like the best thing he's heard since Peace, and he will be obligated to accept."  
"Oh." Damon said, blinking. "OK…"  
"OK?"  
"OK. But then…" he furrowed his brow, wrinkling his nose fetchingly. "But then won't I still have to have the litter at some point?"  
Alex stared at the young man and wondered if perhaps he'd suffered some kind of head injury, or if all 21-year-olds were this dense.  
"Yes. You will still have to have the litter, eventually."  
"Well, fuck that, then."  
Alex groaned.  
"Come on, kid, get over it!'' he snapped. "Yeah, we're here, and it's fucked up and it's creepy, and it's bizarre, but it's all we have. It's all anybody has. Go ahead, run away. What are you running to? Sleepless nights, spent hoping you don't get eaten or maimed, or end up trapped in the territory of some lonely Lout?" Alex sighed, frustrated. "Nobody wants to live like that. It's not natural. It's not a human way to live. But this place...the Pack is like a second chance at life. You'll miss it when it's too late." Damon was silent for a long time, and Alex hoped that maybe he'd gotten through to the younger human. Eventually, he lifted his head again and those golden eyes burned with determination.  
"No, sorry. Never going to happen."

* * *

“So you're going to call him?” Garron asked, trailing Kriston through the hallways to the Alphas' Suite.  
“Who? Péron?”  
Kriston tried to keep the anger out of his voice when he spoke to his First, but it leaked through. His rage at his clever little mate, who had managed to destroy half of Kriston's quarters in a vengeful fury earlier that day, was overwhelming. Garron nodded.  
“Who else?”  
Kriston shrugged.  
“I might.”  
“Don't.”

At this, the brown wolfe stopped walking and turned in the empty hall to face his First.  
“Why not?”  
Garron hesitated, then shrugged.  
“No need. Just beat him more.”  
“I don't think idle beatings are the answer. Why don't you trust Péron?”  
Garron's brow furrowed.  
“It's not that I don't trust him. It's that I'm suspicious of him.”

Kriston raised an eyebrow.  
“What's the difference?”  
“The difference is that I don't have any evidence for my feelings.” Garron responded, then added, “Yet.”  
Kriston flashed back briefly to that strange comment Damon had made in the cell on the first day he'd arrived, but dismissed it.  
“Péron has always been faithful. He's just a wolfe of the other camp, and set in his ways.” Kriston peered more deeply into his First's face. “But thinking that betas ought to behave more submissively than they do doesn't make him a criminal.”  
Garron was quiet for a moment, then answered,  
“Perhaps you're right, My Second.” there was a pause between them, then Garron added. “I expect you're right.”


	7. Of Mates & Bondings

**Summer, Year Two (6th Moon)**

It was thirty-five days later, and although much time had not passed since Damon's disappearance, the seasons had already changed twice. The lingering icy white of winter had given over completely to bursts of green and yellow, which had in turn yielded to the pinks and blues and whites of full summer. In the Alpha quarters, Alex had just left the rooftop garden for the sitting room, where he settled down next to the picture windows with a book of Wolfish history and regretted that he hadn't done anything with his morning. Unexpectedly, then, there was a knock on the door.

Trying not to spill his coffee as he stretched, Alex reached over to the nearest keypad to authorize entry, and the door slid open to reveal Damon, standing uneasily in the doorway in a t-shirt and thin hospital pants and looking back over his shoulder. Alex stared in surprise for a moment, then waved him in - his left wrist was wrapped, and when he looked anxiously up at Alex, who still regarded him in shocked silence, it was out of a black eye in a cut and bandaged face.

"I thought about what you said." he offered, dryly.  
"Looks like you've had a lot to think about." Alex rejoined. “Come in. Fuck. You look terrible.”

Damon glanced once more over his shoulder, then entered. Alex led them away from the door and prying ears and farther back, into the private sitting room Garron had set up for him adjacent to the bathing area. Damon settled gingerly into one of the lush, soft chairs while Alex busily made a tray of ice water, hot coffee, and leftover biscuits for them in the small kitchen.

“I can't believe you're back.” he prattled on, nervously, from the other room. “It's almost like looking at a dead man. Kriston wouldn't even speak your name while you were gone – we had no idea what had happened to you. And so many humans have died since the Rift, I just thought maybe – maybe they had let you go somewhere. Left you, or something.”  
Alex brought the tray in and set it on the low table between them.  
“We all had thought it was impossible, but then you disappeared, and we thought maybe – maybe wolfes cankill their mates, maybe - ”  
Alex cut himself off, feeling silly and histrionic. Damon quirked one corner of his mouth.  
“That must have been terrifying for you.”  
Alex flushed a little.  
“We were mostly worried about you.”

Damon nodded politely and took his cup of coffee. Silence passed. Alex raked his eyes over his friend, trying to catalogue every injury – a left arm that he favored, a slight limp at the right hip, a scar on the chin where there hadn't been one before. Damon sipped his coffee, taking his time before he spoke. His golden eyes were shuttered and distant. Eventually, he set the mug down.

“You were right.” he said without ceremony, then lifted the glass of ice water and pressed it to his temple, against one particularly ugly bruise. “They at least,” he said, wincing as the coldness made contact, “At leasttaught me that much in Recovery.”  
Alex's heart thumped unevenly in his chest. Damon squeezed his eyes tightly closed as he rolled the glass along the bruise, leaving a trail of moist droplets along his skin.  
“You were in the BRC?” Alex asked, unnecessarily. Damon nodded.  
Abruptly, his eyes opened and he set the glass down, then looked searchingly up at Alex.  
'I was rude to you before. I know that. I regret it, and I'm sorry.” his brow creased, momentarily, then he went on, urgently, “But I hope you'll try again.”  
Alex exhaled.  
“You want my help?”  
Damon nodded, eagerly.  
“Yes. You...get it. You get them – the wolfes. You understand them in a way that I don't – at least not yet. But I want to.” he looked imploringly up at Alex. “So?”  
“So.” Alex said, his coffee steaming up between them.   
Damon looked up again, and those beautiful golden eyes looked so desperate and so lost.   
“So will you teach me?”

Alex quietly eyed Damon. There was something different about the younger human now, post-BRC. Whatever had happened there had altered him, it seemed – at least superficially. He appeared no longer the brash, headstrong, and at times admirably courageous dissident who'd disappeared more than a month ago. There seemed to be a fundamental reshaping which had gone on; a transformation even deeper than the simple change of convictions about past behavior that he professed. Damon seemed...stripped, somehow, of that determined self-certitude that had given him spirit before. Gone was the maverick spirit, gone was the insolent wit, gone was almost every measurable trace of rebellion. The man who sat across from him now, drinking ice water and quietly wondering what was taking Alex so long to answer, seemed to be nothing more than a very respectful, very nervous, very expressionless human being.

The realization of this frightened Alex on a deeper level than he was prepared to admit. So it was with slow deliberation that he decided to agree.   
“Of course I will.”  
The relief in Damon was palpable.  
“But, um, could I ask a favor first?” Damon began, crumbling a biscuit nervously between his fingers, “I need to get rid of these.” he said, indicating his bruised face. “Kriston can't see them. Please.”  
Alex was suspicious immediately.  
"Why not? What happened, Damon? How'd you get them?"   
Damon looked sheepish.  
"It was nothing. I got into a fistfight when I was leaving Recovery – the BRC didn't make any official note of it, since I'd been so good during my time there. I have a spotless record, and I'd like to keep it that way. I don't want Kriston to think ill of me. Please?"   
Alex raised an eyebrow, but assented.  
"Fine. But no more fighting, right?"

Damon nodded amenably and Alex disappeared into the other room. When he returned, he was holding a small round device in his hand.  
"If you tell anyone that I have this, it'll be your head and mine. Do you understand?" Damon nodded again, and Alex stood in front of him and took his chin in hand. "Hold still. This kind of burns a little."  
Alex drew the device slowly over Damon's bruises, pleased to see them fade beneath his touch; he did the cuts next, closing then fading them, and the bandaged wrist he did last.  
After a while, he stopped and shut off the device, its mechanical whirr quieting.  
"I couldn't get the bruise by your eye completely - I don't want to blind you with this thing. But it looks OK, just a little dark around some bits."  
"Thanks." Damon peeled the sticky bandages from around the places where there were once wounds.  
“So how long have you been back?”  
“I just got back today.” Damon answered, and glanced at him.  
“And Kriston hasn’t noticed those yet?”  
“Kriston hasn’t seen me yet.”  
“Well, who brought you back?”  
“The guards and I came to an agreement.” he said, coolly.  
“What – "  
“It’s nothing. Not why I’m here.”  
Alex looked quizzically at Damon, confused by the sudden change of attitude.  
“Damon – “  
“Please, Alex. I can’t talk about it.” The words were almost whispered, and the look in Damon’s eyes was pleading.   
Alex let the subject drop.

“Alright. Well, when do you want to get started on this wolfe thing, then? Before you see Kriston, I presume?”  
Damon nodded.  
“Well, yeah. I sort of had some questions that I wanted to ask you before I go back.”  
“OK.”  
“Well, they’re sort of – um, embarrassing.”  
Alex shrugged.  
“I don’t get embarrassed.”  
“Well," Damon began, looking distinctly awkward, "In Recovery, they made us learn stuff - all the Wolvish laws and the Beta Code, but they didn't teach us anything...biological."  
Alex furrowed his brow.  
“Biological?”  
Damon exhaled.  
“Yeah, like...you know, things about particular parts of wolfes.”  
Alex just blinked at him, and Damon sighed in frustration and got redder. "What I mean is – well, how does - well, who - how do you - how does it work?" Damon finally managed.  
"How does what work?" Alex asked, perplexed.  
"You know." Damon made a vague, but vulgar motion with his hand.  
"Sex?" Alex asked, in surprise.  
Damon nodded, his brown skin flushed.  
"That whole... thing."  
Alex arched an eyebrow.  
“You and Kriston haven't ever...?”  
Damon looked sheepish.  
“No. I got too scared, every time. And then he got mad at me, eventually. And then I got mad, and it just never happened.”  
Alex reflected on this. Three months with an ostensible mate and no sex in sight? No wonder the wolfe had seemed so damn frustrated.  
“Well, you have to have sex with your mate. You _need_ to have sex with your mate. That's number one. You can't just go three months for no good reason without it. That's only going to cause you problems.”

Damon looked really embarrassed now, and he kept breaking off pieces of biscuit and not eating them.  
“I know that! I mean, I'm going to. I know I have to.” he took another sip of ice water. “But I don't know how it works.”  
Understanding shot potently through Alex, and he almost laughed out loud, restraining himself only because he feared embarrassing Damon more than he already (inadvertently) had.  
“Damon,” he asked, slowly, “Are you a virgin?”  
The younger human flushed and went back to picking over biscuits.  
“Pretty much.”  
“Really?!”  
Damon nodded, and Alex couldn't restrain the gleeful laugh he let out. Damon looked up at him, chagrined.  
“Sorry.” Alex raised a placative hand between chuckles, “Sorry. It's just it's been so long since I met a virgin over twelve - I think you might have been the only one left in the Underground.”

Damon's shoulders relaxed a little, and he even managed a wry little smile.  
“Well, there isn't much to do when you're on the move down there: eat, sleep, pray, and fuck.”  
Alex snorted his coffee in laughter, glad to see some of Damon's personality peeking through the BRC facade.  
“And which did you engage in?” he asked, amusedly. Damon grinned shyly.  
“Mostly sleeping, second praying. My father was the damma for our clan. Our family was expected to be the most holy of all.” he wrinkled his nose a little. “And in my colony, you’re definitely not supposed to do _that_ unless you've been married AND gotten clan approval. So there was no way I was going up against my dad and all the elders. And also, in my clan, my father was rumored to have the power to curse those who displeased him. So there was no way anyone would take the risk of messing with me.”

Alex looked at Damon with interest. He'd never heard the young man speak of where he'd come from; all Alex knew was that he'd been living in a nomadic underground human colony when Kriston had found him. Damon had trailed off, though, and didn't seem inclined to return to the thought. Alex looked down and saw that Damon's hands, clenched around the glass of water, were shaking.

“I don't know if I can do this.”  
Alex reached out and laid a hand over one of Damon's.  
“You'll like it. I promise.”  
Day shook his head vigorously.  
"I don't just mean sex. I mean the whole thing." he stared bitterly down at his reflection in the water. "I want to go home."  
Alex sympathized with the man on a deeper level than Day would ever know, but he also knew that nostalgia would get them nowhere, and that the afternoon was slipping quickly by.

"Come on, Damon," he said gently, "Let's get back to business. Let's talk wolfes. Let's talk mating."  
Damon still looked off-kilter, but he answered,  
“OK.”  
“Great. Well, I think you probably already know more than you think you do about wolfes. And about mating. But just in case, I'll start from the beginning.” Alex polished off his coffee and took a bite of a biscuit. “Mating is the physical aspect of a bonding, but the two are so closely correlated for wolfes that the terms are sometimes interchanged. The bonding is the acceptance of a commitment, the establishment of a spiritual or metaphysical connection in the bonded pair, and the physical act of mating, all mixed in together.”  
Damon drank some more water, then spoke.   
“OK. And Kriston will want...both?”  
Alex nodded, firmly.  
“Yes.”  
“So what's the first thing I do? Mate him?”  
Alex nodded again, more slowly this time.  
“That would be about the size of it.”  
“He's big.” Damon blurted, suddenly.  
Alex gave a little half-grin.  
“You'll be fine. But you'll have to let him take you once, to Change you, before you mate.”

Damon chewed on his lip and frowned.  
"Yeah, I keep hearing about this Change, but no one's really been straight with me about what it is. All I know is that he...lies with me, and that it does something, to something inside of me. And then I change. That's it."  
Alex made a mental note to dress down Garron for improperly educating the betas in his Pack.  
“You hybridize.” Alex said, simply, wanting to get straight to the point. “His genes get in you and they make you...a hybrid.”  
Damon looked utterly alarmed.  
“A half-wolfe?!”  
Alex shook his head.  
“No...more like a half-female.”  
Understanding dawned on Damon and his expression changed from expectant to confused to horrified to vaguely nauseous.  
“A hermaphrodite??” he squeaked.  
Alex shrugged.  
“If that's what you want to call it.” he swallowed the biscuit half he'd been chewing and brushed crumbs from his fingers. “I'm not going to lie to you: it hurts like hell the first two days or so, but they give you drugs so you mostly don't feel it. Then, once it's mostly completed, those last few days, it's just...weird." Alex looked back to Damon, whose face read sheer disgust.  
"This is...not OK.” Damon said, eventually, in a weak expression of his feelings.  
Alex tilted his head and looked sympathetic.  
"I felt that way at first, too, but now that it's over and done with, it's...not that bad. It's not anything different than what they've been trying to do in the Underground for years, really, and I signed up to be an experimental carrier when I was 16. This solution is actually quite a bit more elegant than anything our doctors have produced.”  
Damon still looked a little shellshocked.  
“But this is...it's permanent, isn't it?”  
Alex gave Damon a wan, understanding smile and agreed.  
“Yes. It's permanent.”

* * *

Their lessons continued into the afternoon, in the bathing rooms of the Alphas' Suite. Alex had insisted that there was no way Damon could greet his mate looking like that, and had coaxed him into the steamy rooms with promises of beautification.

Inside the private bathing rooms, Alex stripped immediately, but Damon hung back a little. Shamelessly nude, Alex turned to look at his friend, who had shifted just slightly away and was slowly untying his pants. He twisted to try to get a difficult knot out, and Alex caught sight of the full picture.

“ _Fuck_ , Damon!” he cried out, almost reverently.  
Terrified eyes snapped around to meet his.  
“Please don’t tell Kriston! You can’t tell Kriston, OK? Don't tell Kriston, please. Please don’t tell him, Alex, please!” Terror was turning quickly to hysteria.  
“Damon, it’s ok, I won’t tell him, it’s ok, it’s ok.” Alex raised two hands to Damon in surrender, soothing him. “But what happened to you?”   
Damon twisted to try to see himself in the mirror and caught only a glance, but knew how terrible it must look. His back was peppered with bruises, so many that they were innumerable, spreading across his skin like leopard spots. He whimpered a little, involuntarily.  
“In Recovery...” he began, “The guards, they –“   
He stopped, eyes wide, unable to speak about what had happened, either out of fear or conditioning or some kind of misplaced loyalty - Alex didn't know which. Damon glanced up at the other human; his golden eyes were glistening with tears. “They did it.”  
Alex shook his head and reached out an arm for Damon's shoulder.  
“It’s OK. Come on, it’s OK. Words, what did they do to you, Damon?”  
“I just – I had to get out, I had to! I hated it there, and I couldn't stay there, and it was awful and dark and worse than the Louts, I swear it was worse than the Louts.” Damon sobbed.  
“Fuck. I know. I know. It's over now.” Alex comforted him. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up, OK? Let's get you cleaned up before your mate gets home.” Alex told him, surprised to hear the agitation in his own voice.

Damon wiped his eyes as Alex retrieved his healing device and they moved from the side room into the main bathing hall. The hot baths were a small pool, constantly steaming, and they both lowered themselves in, Damon more gingerly than Alex.  
There was silence for a moment before Alex spoke.  
"So is this the agreement you came to?”  
Damon swirled the water to distract himself.  
“Part of it.”  
“And the other part?”  
Tears welled up in Damon’s eyes again, but he bit his lip to punish himself and they stopped.  
“I had to do things for them. For the guards. To get out on good behavior.”  
“What things?” Alex inquired, his voice equal parts gentle and demanding, and Damon realized that he was no longer talking to Alex the Friend; this was Alex the Alpha's Mate now, a leader and the Champion of Betas in the Pack. Damon shook his head.  
“I don't want to get in trouble.”  
Alex's voice got more stern.  
“Get in trouble? For what?”  
“They said - “ Damon hesitated. “They said they would revoke my release.”  
Alex's eyes narrowed.  
“They lied. You're not going anywhere.”  
“But - “  
“I am the First Alpha Mate, and I won't let you.” Alex interrupted, effectively ending that line of argument.  
Damon stared firmly down at the water.  
“I'll get in trouble.” he repeated, mostly to his reflection.  
Alex wanted to growl in frustration like Garron did.  
“Listen to me. You're about to get in even bigger trouble.”  
Damon looked up, sharply.  
“You said you wouldn't tell!”  
“I said I wouldn't tell Kriston.” Alex corrected. Damon gaped at him. “I'm sorry, but you need to talk to me. Maybe we can resolve this without getting Kriston involved, or without going to the Council. But I can only promise that if you talk to me.”  
Damon teared up again.  
“But it wasn't even – nothing happened, Alex.” he protested.   
Alex crossed his arms over his chest.   
“Something obviously did. And if it happened to you, then it will happen to another beta.” Alex leaned in closer to Damon. “Is that what you want? For whatever happened to you to happen to someone else?”

Damon stared, wide-eyed at Alexei, then finally looked away, disguising his humiliation by rinsing his face in the water.  
“They made me use my mouth, to –“  
“Oh. Fuck.” Alex thought, then asked, “How many of them?”  
“Please don’t tell Kriston!” Damon interrupted, fear making him hysterical again. “Please, Alex, please, please, please don't, please!”  
“How many?” Alex repeated. Damon bit his lip.  
“Five.”  
“You have to tell Kriston.”  
If there was an expression beyond abject terror, Damon had it.  
“No! No! Alex, no! He'll hate me, I know he will! He'll hate me and he'll reject me and no one will have me because they'll know what I am.”  
Alex couldn't let this one pass without further inquiry.  
“What are you?” he probed, tenderly.  
Tears spilled across Damon's face.  
“I'm a whore.”  
Alex was stunned.  
“For fuck's sake, Damon, you're a virgin.”  
“But not - “ he made a desperate noise and rubbed at his eyes to clear them. “But not because I'm good. Just...because nobody wanted me.” his breath hitched. “And when – when they offered, they said 'Do this and we'll let you go' and I just...did it. I just went, and that's – that's something whores do, I don't – they're going to tell my mate, Alex, and then he'll know and he'll reject me – my mate will reject me!”

It occurred then, to Alex, that Damon might be the most pathetically confused individual he'd ever met in his life. It was understandable; to be raised in a cutoff clan in the Underground, an isolated enough place as it was...and then to be abandoned, and snatched from that reality into this world, where everything was different, and he was alone again...

“Damon.” he said, finally. “That is shit. That is utter shit. That will not happen. Kriston will never reject you.”  
“He will! It was stupid and wrong and I was - “ his breath hitched again, and he whimpered, “I’m a whore.” Tears were flowing freely now.   
Alex shook his head.  
“You're not, never were, and never will be. And whoever told you that deserves whatever they have coming to them.” Alex paused, not liking this next part any more than Damon would. “But we're going to have to go to Kriston.”  
“OK.” Damon agreed, finally. “OK. OK. But just...later, please? Can we? Can we just...” he ran wet hands over his face again, trying to clean himself up. “Can we just finish talking for now?”

Feeling that Damon had probably already been through enough for one day, Alex decided to concede this point, and he settled himself into a seat in the warm baths, halfway under the water.  
“Where should I begin?”  
Damon sniffled.  
“Just finish, with mating.”  
Alex wasn't so sure that was a good idea, but upsetting Damon more seemed like a worse one.  
“OK. Mating.” he leaned back in his stone seat, thinking. “So once every wolvish year, which equates to about 19 months on Earth, a wolfe goes into season. Every wolfe's season comes at a different time, and it's a little different for each of them. They all know when it's coming, though - they can feel it and they can smell it, and after a while, you'll be able to tell, too. Their behavior changes, grows more aggressive. And the sex is incessant.”  
Damon listened with terrified interest, standing across from Alex.

“I don't know if I can do this, Alex.” he admitted abruptly. Alex found some shampoo by the side of the bathing pool and nicked it for both of them, continuing pointedly on as if the confession of weakness had never occurred.  
"Now, Season has the potential to be the best nine days of your life, or the worst. That all depends on your ability to recognize the signs, plan, and prepare. You'll need to stock food and any other necessities – he won't be letting you out of his sight for almost any reason – and if you're not ready to carry yet, then you'll definitely want to talk with your mate so that you can see the doctors beforehand and make sure it doesn't happen.”  
Damon nodded and dipped his hair into the water to soak and lather it.  
“I think, um, that Kriston wants me to carry right away.” he said, distractedly trying not to get shampoo in his eyes.  
Alex paused to wring the water out of his own tousled, dark hair.  
“Is that what you want?”  
Damon hesitated.  
“I don't know.” he said, then, by default, “I want whatever my wolfe wants.”  
Alex carefully kept his face neutral.  
“I see. Well, in that case, don't worry about it.”  
“Are you, um - “  
“Carrying?” Alex interrupted him. “No.”  
Damon frowned.  
“When will you?” he asked, almost rudely.  
Alex pinkened around his ears.  
“I don't know, Damon. We've been trying for five months now. These things don't always happen on a schedule, you know.” he added, more sharply than was necessary.  
Damon sensed he'd tread on tender ground, and stopped his questions. He pulled away from Alex, swirled some water around him, and leaned back to dip his thick, springy head of unbraided hair in the water to rinse it, trying to think of a way to change topics.

“So how do I act?” Damon asked, soon. Alex frowned.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean, I know what the Seventh Order defines as good behavior for a beta, but not how to..."  
Alex cocked his head.  
"How to?"  
"How to do it."  
Alex blinked.  
"I'm sorry?"  
"You know. Everyday stuff.”  
“I’m not following.”  
Damon ran a hand over his hair and mussed it.  
“Like, I know that a good beta is respectful, always, to his mate and his elder wolfes. But I don't know exactly what respectful behavior is. And because I don't know if I'm being respectful or not, I don't know if I'm going to get in trouble or not. And since I can't predict, I can't...change my behavior to change his.”  
"So...you want to learn how to manipulate him?"  
"No! I just want to learn to live with him."  
Alex smiled a little.  
“OK.” he said. “Right. Well, the first thing you should remember is that wolfes love attention. The more attention, the better. So get up to greet him. Always. Maybe kiss him or something. They like that." Damon raised an eyebrow. "They like to feel like you miss them when they're gone."

"Wolfes are more driven by instinct than humans can ever experience or understand. So play into it. Express loyalty. Makes them feel secure. Exhibit dependency on their leadership. Wolfes need constant reassurance of their place within the pack hierarchy. Never challenge your mate openly. Oh, and their pups are extremely important. Shower their pups with attention, and they’ll return it to you tenfold.”   
At the mention of pups, Damon looked particularly anxious, but he swallowed it.  
“OK.”  
"And if you're ever in doubt, just put one hand to your stomach. Or sit down."  
Damon's expression quickly became befuddled.  
"I'm sorry?"  
"Putting one hand to your stomach will be a subtle reminder that you might be carrying his pups. He won't come near you in anger then. And sitting down makes you appear smaller and therefore less of a threat. Didn't I tell you these wolfes run on instinct?"  
Damon half-smiled.  
"Got it. What else?”  
“Keep the meat locker full. You can ask the attendants to do that for you, but make sure to ask them on a regular basis. A hungry wolfe is a grumpy wolfe.”  
Damon nodded.  
“Anything else?”  
“Remember who you are.” Alex said, looking directly at Damon now. “Remember that you're the Second Alpha's Mate.” he frowned. “A lot of people – a lot of humans are counting on you now. You have a responsibility to them, as well as yourself, because you have a chance to do things they cannot do – namely, effect change in their stations by changing the Alpha's attitude and convincing him to change the Beta laws.” Alex leaned forward, peering more deeply into Damon. “Don't ever forget your obligation to the humans of this pack. They're your people now.”

Damon swallowed, once again feeling far in over his head and overwhelmed with the weight of it all. But he would bear it, just as he always had.  
“So on a more practical note,” he began, changing topic and tone, “What do humans wear around here, anyway? Wolvish clothes?" Damon had noticed that the wolfes themselves tended to wear loose fitting pants, shoulder hanging robes, and no shirt. They would wear more if required, but also seemed to take every possible opportunity to go about nude. Alex appeared to dress as any other human he'd met.   
"You can. Traditional human clothes are harder to come by, and wolvish designs are usually more comfortable, but really - wear anything you want." Alex shrugged. "There's no dress code here." he added ironically. Damon nodded, seeming to take all this very seriously.  
"Anything else I should know?"  
"Try to show some favor for the outdoors - they love that." Alex thought again. "I suppose that's enough for now."  
"It's a lot."  
"You'll remember."  
Alex heaved himself out of the water, padding across the stone tiles and returning with warm towels for both of them. Dried and dressed, the pair went back into the front sitting room.  
“So do you think you’ll be able to get by?”  
Damon nodded.  
"I'll figure it out."  
Alex agreed, then added, “But remember that we have to talk to Kriston.” Damon hesitated, but Alex pressed him. “For the other betas,” he said, urgently, “We have to talk to him.”

As if on cue, the front door to the quarters opened, and in breezed Garron, followed closely by Kriston. Damon sucked in a breath and turned to Alex, who smiled encouragingly. Kriston saw his mate and started, looking surprised.   
"You're back."   
Damon nodded, and his hand went immediately to his face before he remembered that his bruises were gone.  
"Hello." Then, hastily, "Alpha."

Kriston raised an eyebrow of interest at the address, but remained where he was, guarded. Damon chewed his lip for a moment, unsure. Alex prodded him, and he stood to approach his mate, eyes lowered in submission. Garron watched the scene in silent curiosity. Damon, now flush against his wolfe's chest, stood on his tiptoes, silently asking for a kiss. Kriston obliged happily, drawing his mate into an embrace. It was rough, and Damon did all he could not to pull away. Kriston seemed pleased and kissed him again, more gently now, taking his time with his mouth. After several minutes, Garron cleared his throat conspicuously and Kriston ended the kiss.

"What?!" he demanded, crossly. Garron laughed and sat down on the couch next to Alex.   
"We just came to see if you felt up for a walk. It's such a nice day out. Would you like to come?" Garron's gaze slid from Alex over to Damon. "Either of you?" Damon looked up, first at Garron, then to Kriston.  
"I can go out?" he asked, uncertainly.  
Kriston considered, then nodded.  
"If you'll behave."   
Damon nodded vigorously.  
“I'll be good, Alpha.”  
Kriston gifted him with an indulgent smile.   
"Yeah. We'll go." Alex interjected, sensing that this scene could go on for some time. “Just give us a little while to dress and we'll meet you in the gardens."   
Garron nodded and stood to leave. Kriston followed him. Once they were gone, Alex got up and went to the wall of closets. Damon, however, remained glued to the chair he'd been seated in.  
"I can go out." Damon repeated the words to himself, a little afraid that they weren't yet going to come true. "It's daytime." Alex glanced up at the catatonic man, then out at the sunlit day.  
"Yes."   
Damon looked up at Alex in awe.  
"I haven't been outside in seventeen years, Alex. Well, before I got lost." he stared out of the window. "And never in the bright sun."   
Alex paused in his search through the closet and looked at his friend.  
"Well, today's your lucky day."  
"What does it feel like?" Damon asked, getting to his feet and coming out of his stupor.  
"You'll know in ten minutes. Now here," Alex threw a shirt over his shoulder in Damon's direction and continued looking. "Put this on." Damon held the article up and examined it.  
"I can't wear this."  
"Why not?" Alex turned to look at him. "You should be able to fit it."  
"Not if I want to breathe."  
"Just put it on. He'll love it."  
As it so happened, he did love it, and Damon spent the better part of the afternoon fighting to keep it on.

* * *

The following week, the group had gathered again for nightmeal. At their table in the dining room, Alex was seated next to Damon, and at the earliest opportunity, he leaned over to whisper to him. Kriston and Garron seemed to be engrossed in conversation, but Alex cast a cursory glance at them anyway.   
"So??" he elbowed Damon. Day rolled his eyes and checked to be sure Kriston hadn't heard.  
"I'll let you know." Damon rolled his eyes. Alex looked a little disappointed.  
"Oh. I thought maybe since you'd returned - "  
"It's barely been a week - give me some time." Damon defended himself. Alex frowned.   
"Moody?"  
"I don't like talking about this."  
"Don't talk - do."  
"I will when I'm ready."  
Alex examined Damon for a moment.  
"Kriston really does care about you, you know. Adores you, in fact, and he's awfully patient for a slicer."   
Damon took another sip of his drink and pouted.   
"I know, but ... I just can't. Not yet."  
"Not even once? I was the same way when I first got here, but if you care for him, and he cares for you, what's the problem? You know he's dying to have you, and I've seen the way you look at him when he moves; you know you want it too."

Damon just shrugged, took a sip of his drink, and sat back, crossing his hands sagely in his lap.   
"It's the whole Change thing – you know, it just freaks me out."   
Alex took a longer sip of his drink.   
"Is it the Change thing that freaks you out, or the sex thing, Damon?"  
Day turned red and poured himself some wine, carefully not answering the question. Alex frowned.  
“You need to tell him what happened at the BRC.”  
Damon made a face of disbelief and downed his wine in one gulp, then refilled the glass.  
“No. It's not that.”  
“Then what is it?” Alex probed. "Everyone's scared the first time, Day. But Kriston won't hurt you."   
There was a pause while Damon shifted and took several nervous sips, rolling the glass between his fingers. When he spoke, his voice was so plaintive that it bordered on whiny.  
"But Kriston, he's...big."  
"Damon, don't be silly. Listen to me: you will be fine." Alex told him, firmly. Damon quieted again, somewhat reassured.  
"Maybe. We'll see."

* * *

Damon was silent as he and Kriston took the long, winding path back to their wing. Try as he might not to worry about it, the idea of mating, of being changed, still hung heavy in his mind. He and Kriston's usual security detail followed 6 or 7 yards behind, and Damon kept glancing back nervously at them, feeling paranoid that everyone knew his thoughts, the source of the weird tension between he and his mate. Passing large windows in the upper halls, he caught glimpses of the moon on the grass outside, and wanted to go for a night walk, but knew there was no way the guards or his mate would permit that. It had been so long, it seemed, since he'd gone for just a walk alone. Damon lost himself in memories, and the wolfe noticed his mate's silence.

"Are you alright, little one? You didn't eat at nightmeal."  
"I wasn't hungry."   
"Do you feel OK?"  
"I'm fine."  
"You seem tired."  
"I am."   
Kriston brightened.   
"Do you want to go to bed?"   
Damon considered the offer, and the tone in which it had been delivered.  
"I think I'll take a shower."  
"Oh." Kriston looked a little dejected. "I'll go and walk the perimeter with Garron, then." They reached the door to their wing, and Kriston turned back down the hall. “Back in a bit."   
Damon nodded, grateful for a the vacation from his wolfe's presence.

At the door to Kriston's quarters, the guards stopped and took their usual posts. Damon let himself in quickly, and headed straight for the bathing rooms, hoping no one else would be there. Usually, he preferred to go when Alex or one of the attendant would be around, but right now he needed time alone, just to think things over and make his decisions. To reconcile with himself the fact that he had no choice but to become a wolfe's bonded mate.

In the showers, he stood under the gushing hot water and tried to figure things out. His colony wouldn't have approved, that was for certain. Wouldn't have approved of the pagan ritual of bonding, wouldn't have approved of sex outside of the sacrament of marriage, wouldn't have approved the inherent treachery involved in bedding down with the greatest enemy the humans had ever known. Some of the things he'd been told about the Wolfish Empire was wrong , he knew that and had seen it for himself when he'd first arrived here. But all of it couldn't be wrong, could it? The wolfes were still wild things, creatures not of this earth, and enemies of the natural lives of man. Weren't they?

And the sex was another issue. Sex, he'd always been taught, was something reserved for marriage, not the passing interest of animal mating. Damon rubbed his temples. But maybe it wouldn't be like that? Kriston said it wouldn't be like that? And the BRC had been very insistent that mating was a requirement, not an option in his type of position. Even Alex seemed to have joined forces with them and told him to just go for it. And Damon himself knew that although Kriston had accepted his return easily, securing his position would require some sort of token of commitment to a life here.

It was, then, through this line of consideration that Damon found himself irrevocably drawn to the conclusion that he was going to have to do it. Alex had also told him about Season, and that lit another fire under Damon's decision. Because he had no idea when Kriston's next one might be, it seemed that he had only two choices: either come to Kriston on his own terms now, or be taken by force later. Better this way than the one he preferred not to consider. It shouldn't matter anyway; humans in ColdRiver acted as if sex wasn't such a big deal, and maybe they had it right. It still felt strange. He shut his eyes and let the water run across his face.

* * *

Damon stepped out of the bathroom nude, thinking his wolfe must still be off checking the perimeter with Garron. He jumped two feet backwards,then, when he entered the bedroom to find Kriston lying naked on the bed, grinning mischievously.  
"Holy-" Damon snatched up his towel, covered himself, and dashed back into the bathing rooms. Kriston's laughter chased after him.  
"I've seen you like this before, pup! What's there to hide?"   
Damon didn't respond, just flushed and dressed quickly in the safety of the linen storage. When he reappeared, Kriston was still waiting for him, the amusement fading slowly from his face, replaced by a more focused interest. As soon as Damon got close enough, Kriston swept him up in a kiss and laid him down on the bed. They broke apart and Kriston sat back to admire Damon, who squirmed at the attention.  
"I missed you. I'm glad you're back." the wolfe told him, and the barest hint of delight appeared on Damon's face before he hid it. Kriston kissed him again, longer, his hands caressing Damon's sides, lifting his shirt to stroke gently over the places where he'd been hurt before. "Words, but you're beautiful."

Suddenly the wolfe stopped his caresses, fingers hovering just above the skin where a heretofore-uncharted bruise had appeared.  
"What happened here?"   
Damon tensed as he realized that there were marks Alex had missed and pulled his shirt down.  
"I slipped into the pool at Recovery."

Day pulled away, and Kriston let his gaze wander the length of his mate's body, lingering momentarily on his groin. He looked back up to catch Damon's unnerved gaze as he watched his wolfe with wide eyes that betrayed a mix of arousal and fear. He blinked, and suddenly both were gone, hidden again beneath his usual mask of insistent non-emotion. Kriston kissed one of Damon's ribs where it still showed and looked up for a reaction. His expression softened a little, but otherwise didn't change. Kriston returned his attention to Day's body, pushing the thin T-shirt up to give him full access. Damon followed his movements with his eyes, but did nothing until Kriston began to finger the waistband of his pants. Then there was a quick, almost undetectable tensing of muscle, followed by an immediate, determined relaxation. As his jeans came off, however, and Kriston began to explore further, Damon began to tremble. Surprised by his usually stoic mate's reaction to his touch, Kriston stopped and sat up to face him. Damon turned his head to the side, refusing to meet his wolfe's gaze.

"Why are you afraid of me?" Kriston cocked his head. "Do you think I want to hurt you?" Damon said nothing. "Do you?" Kriston demanded, and Damon shook his head no.   
"Then why?" Damon shrugged, but Kriston wouldn't accept this, and, taking Damon's chin in one strong hand, turned his beta's face to his own. “Why?” he growled.  
"I'm not afraid," Damon answered quickly, alarmed by his wolfe's sudden mood change. "I'm just -" Damon ground his jaw. "I haven't -" Kriston watched his mate expectantly, and Damon made an annoyed noise and looked defiantly away. "I'm fresh."

Kriston took this in, looking surprised, then delighted, then aroused before his expression became something like tenderness. He leaned over for a kiss, and Damon obliged him, not unenthusiastically.   
"Why didn't you tell me before? I thought something was wrong with you – with us! But it's really only nerves; you're anxious.” Kriston seemed to ponder this for a moment. “It's important to you." he added, thoughtfully.  
Damon shrugged, suddenly feeling vulnerable.  
"Not really." He adopted a look of cool indifference and distracted himself with a thread from the sheets. Kriston wanted to laugh at his mate's bravado, but he resisted.  
"No?"  
"No."   
"Well, all's well, then." he shrugged, cupping Damon's face in both hands to kiss his beta firmly and straddled him, his larger legs outside of Day's. Damon tried to steel his reaction, but couldn't keep from sucking in a breath as Kriston's erection rubbed damply against his thigh. Kriston felt the increase and pressed closer, humping against Damon's leg. Damon squirmed and tried to wriggle away, but Kriston kept him in place with one arm, his attention focused on listening to Damon's heart beat triple time.  
"Kriston, please? This is too fast; don't..." Damon's eyes flicked nervously up to meet the wolfe's. Kriston relented and let him go.  
"Only if you talk."  
Damon adopted a severe pout.

"Fine. I guess, in the colony where I grew up, it's a big deal and they have a celebration and stuff, and you have to pass all these tests, and then you're an adult, and it's like you get a new life, but it's really not that big of a deal here and at the BRC they taught us to be adaptable, but I just - can't we go slower?" Day tried to settle his breathing.  
Kriston leaned back to look at him.  
"It's very important to you."   
"No - not anymore."  
"Why not?"   
"What do you care?"  
"Just tell me."  
"You're going to have me anyway." Damon answered him. "In my colony, you're supposed to be joined properly before you lie together; otherwise it's a sin. And you say we will be bonded, which is fine (although in my colony that doesn't count) but I know that you don't want to wait." Kriston looked at his mate for a moment, and Damon blinked away. "And in Recovery, they said that betas should seek to please their wolfes in all things, and Alex says that it would make us both happy, and I do want to do things right for a change, and then I would have my Change and maybe get with and everyone would be happy, so maybe we should just get it over with?"

Suddenly, Kriston sat bolt upright and Day jumped.  
"You're from a Baptiste colony!"  
"Maybe." Damon looked shifty.  
"It won't make us go after them."  
"Then yes."

Kriston's hands left Damon's sides to gesture wildly, and he smiled, delighted to finally learn something about his mate.   
"You should have said something! We've encountered many of your kind before. For some reason, you're particularly bad at evading us. Anyway, I understand your colony – or at least, its belief structure, and if you had told me, I would have made appropriate arrangements to make you feel comfortable until a bonding ceremony could be arranged." Kriston sighed. "It's never too late, though, I guess. We can start everything immediately."

For the first time in a long time, Damon felt relief. He smiled just the tiniest bit, but it was an immense reward for Kriston, who kissed him and laid down beside him, curling one arm around Damon's waist and kissing the back of his neck. "But it is important to you and you are nervous." he added, still wanting to prove his point. Damon just grinned.

* * *

 **Summer, Year Two (7th Moon)**

The massages, Damon decided, were the best part of being bonded to a First Alpha. He relaxed into the feeling of fingers on his scalp and smiled. The light, breaking in through the skylight and playing in cris-crossed beams along the water, mesmerized him, providing a welcome distraction from his thoughts. The first half of the bonding between he and Kriston had taken place almost 3 weeks ago, and although it had eased his mind in some ways, it had terrified him in others. The ceremony had been quicker than he'd anticipated, and prettier. They had used the summer temple, and almost all of the Pack had turned out for the public part of it, to celebrate and feast in the outdoors.

Kriston had been particularly sweet to him both before and after, bringing him little gifts of food and jewelry and clothes, and everyone in the Pack had wanted to meet him and congratulate him and talk to him about what his plans were as the new Second Alpha Mate of ColdRiver. That had been rather stressful, actually – despite what Alex had told him earlier, Damon still had trouble thinking of himself as a leader of anyone, let alone thousands of humans he'd never met before. At least Alex had been temporarily mollified about the BRC – he'd agreed it would be best to wait until after the bonding had finished before bringing it up to Kriston. No one needed a half-crazed wolfe, drunk on bloodlust, wanting to defend his mate. Theoretically, a bonded wolfe would be calmer.

Celebrations had lasted on for days, even though Kriston had been called away for a mission just the day after the ceremony. It had stung, painfully, to have his bondmate go so soon, and Damon was surprised at the swiftness with which his new feelings had taken hold. However, at least, with his mate temporarily away, Damon had been able to finally settle down and enjoy some of the nicer perks of being bonded to an Alpha.

His masseuse began to work on his neck next, stroking the tension out of tight muscles. Damon closed his eyes and took another sip of his hunna, one of Kriston's gifts. It relaxed him, as promised, although he knew the effects would only be temporary, and soon he would be sitting lucidly in his bedroom, thinking of all the thousand more things he had to do before Kriston returned from his latest excursion. Damon enjoyed the massage a while longer, then got up to leave the tub. His two newly assigned house attendants helped him out and offered him a warm towel, then led him over to a table where he lay while they massaged and oiled his body. Damon yelped a little as one ventured into some particularly personal areas to gently clean him, but they stroked and soothed him and he relaxed.

“You're unchanged.” one observed, very bluntly. “You've haven't lain with the Alpha.”  
Damon tensed up immediately. Were they going to be confused? Angry? He wasn't sure, honestly, exactly what was considered the norm about that here.  
The other, sensing Damon's reaction, ran a hand over his shoulders in a calming gesture.  
“You will, though, won't you?” he said, his dark eyes scolding his coworker. “Tonight, won't it be? When he gets home. Then you'll change. Don't worry.”

A few more minutes of massage, and then the one who had comforted him spoke again, fingers pressing intimately towards his anus.   
“But you have to learn not to tense when you're touched here." he said, gently. "You'll only make it more difficult, and First Alpha Wolfe Kriston will want to see you responsive, not repulsed."   
Damon exhaled and wondered how to feign relaxation. One of the servants, the first one, he thought, kissed him on the cheek and patted his head comfortingly.  
“Don't worry. You'll be changed before you know it.”

* * *

Where the hell was Kriston?

Damon frowned, turning over for what felt like the hundredth time to stare at the wall. He hadn't come home yet, and Damon was feeling annoyed and more insecure by the minute. The servants had finished preparing him hours ago, and he wanted Kriston to see him while he still felt all fresh and clean. This night was going to go perfectly, dammit. It had to.

Damon felt the tendrils of guilt creeping back in. They'd been bonded for more than 2 weeks, and hadn't mated yet. In fact, he'd barely even seen the wolfe. First, his mate had been called away the night after their bonding ceremony, and the weeklong mission meant it had been almost ten days they’d gone without having done the deed. By the time he'd returned, so had Damon's anxiety, and Kriston had to ease him back into familiarity all over again. Then another mission had come up, shorter this time, just to the southern edge and back, but it had taken two more days away from them. Kriston had returned late last night, but had been too exhausted from the journey to do more than shake out a hello and fall asleep. He’d slept until afternoon, when Garron had assembled a hunting party and asked Kriston to take the second half. Which meant that he'd be home, finally, tonight. Which meant that tonight would be the perfect time to consummate things. Besides, between his wolfe’s sweet gestures and his friends’ coaxing, Damon had actually grown rather fond of his mate, and was looking forward to it.

If Kriston ever got home. Damon looked once more at the chronometer, then the darkness outside of his bedroom window. It was a hunt night, and hunt nights meant sex. Kriston had once explained to him why; something about pack dynamics triggering the mating instinct. Day hadn't really been paying attention at the time, as he'd been too busy trying to force 321 pounds of aroused wolfe back to his side of the bed. But the concept had stuck with him.

Tonight, Kriston and Garron had led the pack off as soon as night fell. They'd gone towards the South Woods, the most dangerous wolfe territory, and Damon had felt a little more anxiety about this than was usual for him, but he had masked it in the name of bravery, and come upstairs to drink a little hunna and have a bath and massage. And, apparently, wait for five hours for his mate to come home.

It was very late when the door clicked open. Damon, who'd fallen asleep waiting, whined and rolled onto his back, the light from the freshly activated lamps waking him. He looked to his right, where Kriston stood nude and obviously recently bathed by the bed, a thick brown tail that he hadn't bothered to control swishing back and forth merrily. Damon smiled a tired smile up at his happy mate.

"I take it the hunt went well?"   
Kriston nodded gleefully.  
“My team took down a gualup. It was huge, too! And vicious. Came right at my throat at one point, but it’s dead now – want to come see?"  
“Uh, later." Damon demurred.   
Honestly, he preferred to see his meat after it had gotten to a table, and especially since he still wasn’t very sure what a gualup was. He yawned, stretching languidly, and Kriston smiled broadly down at him before flopping down next to him and wriggled, jostling the bed and ruffling the sheets. Settled, he hooked one arm over Damon's waist and pulled the younger in for a kiss.  
"Kriston -"  
"You taste good." Kriston kissed him again. "And smell good, too." Another kiss.  
"Kriston." Damon broke in before he could be kissed again. Kriston shook his head to clear it and leaned off of his mate.  
"Sorry. I'm listening, pup."  
"Kriston, we need to talk." the wolfe grinned lasciviously.  
"Talk? Are you certain, because I'm sure I could think of better -"  
"Ris! We need to talk because I thought that maybe tonight," Damon swallowed before continuing, "You could change me."   
Kriston didn't respond for a moment, and Damon's heart did funny things while he worried that his wolfe didn't want him anymore.  
"Tonight." his voice was rough with lust, and Damon nodded, relieved but also a little unnerved by his wolfe's obvious interest. He didn't want things to get out of control too quickly, and although he'd been told what to do, Damon knew that he was horribly inexperienced and his fears began to multiply.   
"If you're not too tired from the hunt."

Kriston had no such concern, and immediately set upon his beta, kissing him thoroughly while stripping off both their shirts, a rather complicated feat. When he'd finished with that, he slung one leg over and straddled him, then descended upon his neck, nipping his way down to the collarbone, hands simultaneously stroking his skin, scraping lightly over the most sensitive spots. Damon was already aroused and shivering by the time he arrived.

"Day."  
"Hmm?"  
"I love you. You know that, right?" Kriston punctuated this with one more kiss-nip to the chest and Damon shook.  
"Yeah. I know that." Kriston smiled and kissed his mate again, gently exploring Day's mouth with his tongue. Shifting his weight, he raised himself up on one elbow.   
"Let me show you how much."

Damon looked nervous, but nodded and offered another embrace. Kriston took it and stroked his beta's now-bare chest slowly. With one knee, he gently separated Damon's legs and climbed between them.  
"Open up for me, puppy." he coaxed, whispering into Damon's ear as he caressed the inside of his thigh.

Day complied, albeit slowly, spreading his legs farther to allow Kriston room to move between them. He tried to stay relaxed as the wolfe stretched over him, a sinewy strong body gliding over his own, making contact in all the right places. His skin caught fire where Kriston touched it, and when Kriston's rigid cock damply nudged his own, he had to grit his teeth to keep still. The wolfe shifted onto one elbow, closer to Damon, and took his mate's hand, guiding it down to stroke his erection. Damon winced at the slick feel of it and tried to pull away, but Kriston forced his hand back. He laced his fingers with Damon's and began a steady pull on his cock. Damon, always a quick learner, followed Kriston's pattern and watched in amazement as his cock swelled larger. Above him, the wolfe groaned. A thought occurred to Damon, and he caught his lip between his teeth and worried it there for a moment.

"You're big." he whispered this, but Kriston heard. He nuzzled his neck in a soothing response.  
"We'll go slow. I won't hurt you." He released Damon's hand and kissed him slowly, massaging his mouth with his tongue.

Pleased with the tenderness of the embrace, Damon moaned involuntarily and moved into the kiss. Kriston broke it and grinned down at Damon, who reddened, then stroked his cheek indulgently.   
"You're so lovely. I've wanted you since the first day I laid eyes on you."   
Smiling, he laid a kiss on Damon's lips, then sat back on his haunches. Taking Day's pants by the waist, he eased them across his hips, over his erection, and down his legs to finally pull them off. The second they were off, they were over his shoulder, on the floor, Kriston wanting to keep his attention on his mate. Damon gripped the bedposts behind his head for balance as strong hands guided his legs upwards.  
"On my shoulders."   
Damon tightened his grip as realization of the inevitable swept over him, and he fought his panic, trying to give in to his alpha's touch. Sensing Damon's anxiety, Kriston leaned over to kiss his mate, at the same time hoisting his hips up into his lap, gently kneading Damon's ass as he did so. Damon's gaze focused on Kriston's thick and rapidly growing cock, and the wolfe took advantage of the distraction to wet one finger and slip it into his beta's body. Damon bit back a cry of surprise and squeezed his eyes shut. Kriston kissed him again and rubbed his flank.  
"Yes, puppy, I know. Just relax, OK?" Damon nodded, but didn't loosen his grip on the bed.  
Kriston slicked his fingers on his cock and pushed in another, moving both circularly inside of his mate. It wasn't too bad, but Damon bit down hard on his lip to manage the discomfort. Kriston watched him closely. "One more, love." Damon shook his head and put one hand over Kriston's.   
"S - slow, Ok? Just do it real slow."  
Kriston nodded, and then dipped his head to take Damon's half-hard cock in his mouth. Above him, the human jerked and thrust upwards, hardening immediately. Kriston began a steady rhythm, and it didn't take long before Damon was thrusting blindly into his wolfe's mouth as Kriston easily worked three slippery fingers inside of him. He cried out a bit when he came, clenching fingers to the point of discomfort in Kriston's hair, one hand in his silver streak.

Kriston released him and dragged the back of one hand over his mouth, which was upturned in a Cheshire grin. Repositioning his weight, he began to rub Damon's hipbones sweetly with his thumbs until his mate calmed down. When Damon's breathing had evened out again, Kriston slipped the three fingers back in. Damon whimpered at the pain that replaced the old discomfort, but Kriston was bent on his mission and determined to complete it. Steadily sliding his fingers in and out, and after a few strokes, paused. Damon nodded for him to continue, and Kriston did, until his mate seemed comfortable enough to go further. Kriston looked Damon over.

"Are you ready, pup?" Damon began to panic as the now-familiar touch was withdrawn, and he grasped for Kriston. The wolfe kissed and nuzzled Damon to placate him, then sat back to stoke his cock. When he was sufficiently prepared, he looked down at Damon.  
"Love you, Day." he whispered, kissing the pliant boy beneath him. Kriston guided himself to his mate's hole and began to push in, agonizingly slowly. Damon choked and bit sharply down as the knife-blade pain of his first penetration shot through him. When Kriston made his first thrust, Damon couldn't quiet himself, and he cried out in pain. Another thrust was swearing, and a third brought begging.  
"Kriston...ahh, please...it hurts." Damon whimpered and Kris paused to stroke his face.   
"I know. I'm sorry. It'll feel better in a little while, pup, I promise." Kriston kept thrusting and Damon shook his head violently in protest.   
"I can't it hurts you're too big stop."   
"Almost there, baby." Kriston thrust himself in to the hilt and Damon moaned, then calmed to a sob. Kriston stilled above his mate, waiting until Damon relaxed enough for the pain to subside. After several minutes, Kriston began to move inside of him, slowly, until he felt the swelling particular to wolfes begin.

"Damon, love?" Damon looked up at him through hazy eyes and tried to focus on what he was saying.  
"Here it is, OK? This is the part where you have to be still. I'm going to knot and I just really need you to be still, pup."

Close as he was, Kriston could hear his mate's heartbeat accelerate, could feel his pulse racing beneath the skin. The erection that had begun to return was flagging now, and Damon was struggling to breathe evenly. Kriston vowed that he would be gentle, but lost the plot as the swelling knot which seemed to begin in his belly and slide down his cock simultaneously lit his nerve endings on fire and brought him into closer contact with his mate's body. He groaned and began to hump mindlessly against Damon. Damon resisted, pushing at his wolfe's chest, but was unable to budge the larger male.

"Kriston..." he whimpered fruitlessly, until the sharp scent of pain brought Kriston back to the present. He refocused on his mate and kissed his brow where it was furrowed with stress.   
"Oh, words, I'm sorry - don't fight me, beautiful, you'll make it worse." Damon shook his head, but stopped struggling.  
"See, there we are - that's it, darling, just relax." Kriston nuzzled his mate's shoulder, giving it a quick nip. "Just let me take you, puppy - let me take care of everything. It'll be OK."   
"Please - please stop, Kriston, please?" he begged again. "It hurts so much, please?" Kriston craned his neck to nuzzle Damon's collarbone.  
"I can't, puppy, you know that. I'm knotted, we have to let it finish. Shh. It's almost over, dove." Damon shuddered and drew in a breath, rubbing one hand over his face, trying to concentrate on his breathing. Kriston continued, and as he went on, the thrusting became easier as Damon began to relax.

After a few minutes, Kriston reached something like a preclimax and the swelling that threatened to split Damon in two eased. They separated easily and then Kriston thrust back into his beta's body. Damon whimpered at first, but now that the hardness inside of him wasn't quite so large, he calmed down and began to rather enjoy the experience, try as he did to fight it. After a few more minutes, Kriston changed the angle of his thrusts, pressing differently into his beta's body.

Damon gasped as the sensations changed, rode them, and let them build into something more. Kriston kept his rhythm, and Damon pressed back against him, clutching the wolfe's arms to keep his balance. Kriston's thrusts became faster, more erratic, and Damon arched his back and hissed when the depth became too much for him. Then the wolfe growled, pressed his nose into the arc of Damon's neck, and came, flowing hotly into his mate. Whether it was the sensation of the wolfe's orgasm or a culmination of his own, Damon wasn't sure, but he found himself teetering on the edge, every muscle tensed and so tight that when the wolfe lifted his head to whisper, tenderly, into Damon's ear, 'Come for me, little one'... Damon did.

* * *

"Rise and shine!" Damon groaned and rolled over to see Alex standing over him.  
"What time is it?"   
"0700, a bit early."  
Damon groaned again and Alex plunked down on the bed, bouncing next to his friend's head.  
"You're too damn chipper, man." Damon sat up and rubbed his head. Alex just nodded, practically humming with energy.  
"Guess what?"  
"You found a stockpile of uppers-"  
"I'm having puppies."   
"-and you took it all. What?"  
"Puppies! My first litter, and I'm almost a month and a half with." Alex grinned. Damon propped himself up on his elbows.  
"Puppies? When did you find out?"  
Alex just looked ecstatic.  
"This morning; I went to the nurses' station."   
Damon was sitting up now, knees pulled up to his chest.   
"I think I'm going to be sick."  
Alex raised an eyebrow.  
"That's my line. What's wrong?"  
"Something hurts." he frowned, focusing inward. "Everything hurts."   
Alex suddenly noticed that Damon's hands were fisting tightly in the sheets.  
"Fuck, Alex, it hurts!"

Alex knew immediately what was happening and, scanning the room, discovered a packet and note lying on the bedside table. Snatching it up, he ripped the packet between his teeth and shoved the small pill it contained into Damon's mouth.  
"Damon, it's the Change. It will hurt very badly if you let it, but if you just swallow this pill and breathe for a moment, the pain will go away. Can you do as I say?" Damon nodded, then made a face at the flavor as it dissolved, but swallowed well enough and obediently took the glass of water Alex offered next.

They both sat in silence for a minute as Damon caught his breath.  
"Is it worth it?"  
The question caught Alex off-guard, and for a moment he couldn't generate a proper response.   
"Huh?"  
"All this. All the changes, all the sacrifice - is it worth it?" Alex sighed.  
"I hope so."


	8. Péron

**Autumn, Year Two (9th Moon)**

It was nearing the middle of the autumn season, and Damon and Alex were together in Damon's room. Alex was pacing back and forth in the open sitting area, and Damon was crouched on the floor of the bathroom. The doctor, an old and friendly wolfe, stood by the bathroom door, speaking to Alex.

"What are his symptoms?"  
"Uh, nausea, headache, minor abdominal cramps, watery eyes - " There was a retching sound from the bathroom. " - and vomiting."  
"I see." The doctor thought it all over and went into the bathroom to stand next to Damon. "I'm going to need to ask you a few questions, son. Do you think you can come and sit on the bed for a while?"  
Damon nodded miserably and Alex helped him to the bed. When he was settled, the doctor sat down next to him.  
"When did you and Kriston begin your sexual relationship?"  
"Uh..." Damon blinked, then recovered. "A little while ago. The seventh moon."  
"And your change was completed successfully?"  
Damon nodded.  
"And have you ever attempted any contraceptive measures?" The doctor looked up for this question, peering hard at his patient, and Damon swallowed.  
"No. I would never do that."  
The doctor nodded approvingly, then reached into his bag and handed Damon a tube.  
"Urine sample, then."  
Damon made a face and went into the bathroom.

After he had disappeared, the doctor turned to Alex, laying a hand on the young man's growing belly.  
"And how are you feeling?" he asked, kind demeanor returned. Alex just glowed.  
"Fine. Feels better than two months ago."  
The doctor nodded, pleased.  
"You'll really be showing soon."  
"I know. Garron's already planned the birth announcement for Friday."  
"Well, I don't expect First Wolfe Garron will be alone in his celebration." the doctor said, looking up to where Damon had reappeared in the doorway, holding the tube between two fingers and grimacing. The doctor took it and pulled from his pocket a small foil packet, which he opened between his teeth. He dropped the contents into the tube, capped it, and then all three watched as it turned green, then a fuschia color.  
"What does that mean?" Damon demanded and the doctor smiled.  
"It means that congratulations are in order."  
"No." Damon's eyes got big. "I'm not." the doctor nodded and looked sympathetic.  
"You're with. I'd guess a few weeks along, and I'm sure your mate will be very happy to hear. Would you like me to notify him?"  
"No, thank you - I'd rather tell him myself." Damon stuttered, still peering at the tube. The doctor nodded and put his bag together as he headed for the door.  
"I'd like you in my office tomorrow for a full physical."  
Damon furrowed his brow.  
"I'll call in, then."  
The doctor nodded again and suddenly Damon paled and disappeared into the bathroom.  
"And you can give him this," the doctor addressed Alex now, handing over a bag of crushed leaves. "Chew one mouthful a day as long as the nausea persists."  
Alex nodded and with that, the doctor was gone. Damon dragged himself out of the bathroom and collapsed over the bed.  
"I'm really not happy right now." he groaned, rolling over to lie on his stomach. Alex grinned and ruffled Damon's hair.  
"Kriston is going to be ecstatic."  
"Yeah.” Damon sighed, “I know."

* * *

The doorknob clicked and two anxious eyes turned towards the sound. Kriston poked his head in, then ran over to the bed to jump on top of Damon, letting the door slam behind him. He landed on his mate with an oomph, and Damon flinched and gently adjusted Kriston's weight. Kriston kissed his mate's nose and smiled.

"Hello." he said cheerily, his tail beating time against the bed. Damon wiggled out of Kriston's grasp, moving to sit up on the bed.  
"I have some news for you."  
"Is that so?" Kriston raised an eyebrow and looked down at his mate. "Well, spit it out - don't keep me in suspense, pup." Damon glanced away, then back up to his wolfe, holding his gaze.  
"I'm with."  
Kriston's eyes went wide with surprise, and his gaze danced across his mate's body, searching for perhaps some sort of outward sign that he should have noticed. His face broke into a grin and he pulled Damon back down and rolled them over so that his beta was on top.  
"Puppies!" Kriston sprinkled his mate's face with kisses and quick licks. "Oh, this is wonderful. When did this happen? Oh, I love you so much, Day, my angel. Have you seen the Doctor? I want you to be safe and healthy. Oh, I love you. Have you eaten? I think -"  
"Kriston, please!" Damon kissed his mate, and smiled, Kriston's giddiness proving contagious. "Too much excitement. Slow down, OK? One question at a time."

Kriston nodded obediently, and his tail wagged as much as it could with its owner lying on it.  
"OK. First: how do you feel?"  
"I feel like someone put my stomach in a grinder."  
"That's normal."  
"Ugh."  
"Have you seen the Doctor?"  
"He came today, and I'm going to the clinic tomorrow. Will you go with me?"  
"Of course. How long have you been with?"  
"Six weeks; I think I'll show soon."  
Kriston smiled a little in a very promising way.  
"Good. I've always wanted to see your belly grow full with my litter."  
"Ai! Kriston!" Damon blushed bright red and turned his head.  
Kriston grinned, reveling in his mate's discomfort, and laid a gentle kiss on his neck.  
"Our pups are going to be perfect. How many are there?"  
"It's too early to tell still, appa." Kriston laughed at the pet name and smiled at Damon.  
"You're going to be a fantastic badi, you know."  
Damon grinned and Kriston leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together.  
"So you're proud of me?"  
"Very."  
"Happy?" Kriston raked his eyes over his mate, who was now straddling the wolfe's lap.  
"Uh huh." Damon leaned over his wolfe, kissed his chest, and then wiggled up to lay with his head next to his wolfe's.  
"So will you fuck me?" he whispered. Kriston's eyebrows shot up in surprise.  
"Damon -"  
"Please?"  
"Obviously, but - "  
"The Doctor said that it would ease some of my symptoms, so if you don't mind...?"  
Kriston grinned and decided that he was going to have to let his mate get with quite a bit more often.

* * *

 **Late Autumn, Year Two (10th Moon)**

"C'mon, puppy, wake up. I've got to leave for Council soon."

Damon opened his eyes and his world slowly came into focus. The first thing he saw was Kriston, who perched on the edge of the reclining couch, looking into his face. Damon's gaze moved past him and into the face of the wolfe standing behind him, near the opposite wall of the room. The moment Damon registered his identity, he leapt up and backwards, pressing himself against the arm of the sofa.

"Shit!" Damon's eyes went wide with panic as he recognized the face of his former trainer. His eyes flitted to Kriston, who looked startled, worried, and perplexed all at once, and then flicked back to the indecipherable expression on the other wolfe's face. Reacting only on instinct, Damon dropped into an odd, frightened crouch, as close against the back of the couch as possible, his hands splayed across his stomach. His breathing bordered on hyperventilation, and his fingers tightened spastically around himself.

"Damon!" Kriston was immediately in front of his mate, stroking his face, his hair, trying to connect with him, to calm him. As time passed and the other wolfe did not approach, Damon's shaking slowed and he managed to meet his Alpha's gaze. Kriston was reaching the outer limits of his patience.  
"Day, please tell me what's wrong. Day? Day!" Kriston had both hands on either side of his mate's face, trying to comprehend what had terrified him so deeply. The doctor had said that carrying betas sometimes had nightmares. Was it a nightmare? Damon's eyes were still focused on something just over his shoulder, something beyond both of them...Péron shifted, minutely, near the entryway wall, but it was enough to catch Kriston's attention and make Damon whimper. Four and a half weeks in a BRC cell suddenly came flooding back.

............................

"You say 'thank you' when I'm finished with you, do you understand me, Golden?"  
"Fuck you."  
A sharp left hook threw him against the wall.  
"What was that?"  
"Yes, sir."  
“Yes, WHAT?”  
“Yes, Alpha.”  
"And what else?" A satisfied tone.  
"Thank you, Alpha."  
“For what?” A sneer.  
Faltering, because this was the part that made every other part so insufferable.  
“For letting me please you.”  
“And do you think you have pleased me, Golden?”  
Hesitation.  
“Yes, Alpha.”  
“Are you good to me, Golden?”  
“Yes, Alpha.”  
“Do you love me, Golden?”  
Rebellion, anger, that bursts up in fountains and cannot be lidded.  
“I hope you die.”  
A kick to his ribs exploded pain through his chest, making it impossible to breathe. A piteous, mocking voice.  
"And just when we were doing so well."  
The tip of Péron's boots and the sound of a door lock.  
............................

Damon squeezed his eyes tight against the visions that were suddenly real and happening all over again. Why was he here?? Why had he come, while Damon was sleeping, to find him, and... Damon tried to get himself under control, tried to stop the tears which came anyway, and failed, and felt weakened in the process.

When he looked around the room again, he suddenly couldn't locate an exit, and he felt trapped, realized they'd trapped him, he was trapped, he was going back – back, and he'd only just gotten out...he caught sight of his mate, of Kriston and thought perhaps an appeal? Damon seized the wolfe's wrist in a death-grip, begging.  
"Please - please don't get rid of me, Alpha. I was bad before, but I won't be anymore, I promise. I'll love my puppies and I'll behave, just please don't send me back, please, Alpha! I'm sorry, Alpha, please!"

Kriston felt stunned, blindsided by all this. He tried to get through to Damon, tried to tell him that no one was going to take him, no one was sending him anywhere, and that he was safe, his puppies were safe, but it was all in vain. Damon was still there, still touching him, but he was miles away from Kriston. Then the other wolfe's voice intruded harshly into their disoriented world.

"Show some dignity, Golden. You're embarrassing your alpha."  
Damon whined quietly, but became silent immediately. The fear was still in his eyes, but he had no voice. Péron came a little farther forward.  
"Apologize. And take your proper position. Where has your posture gone?" the calmness of the question hid a danger that Damon knew too well. Still silent, he dropped to his knees on the floor by the bed, head lowered, hands behind his back, and blinked up at the wolfe through wide, frightened eyes.  
"Sorry, Alpha." he turned his head slightly to Kriston. "I'm sorry that I embarrassed you, alpha." he added, then glanced up at Péron for acknowledgement. Kriston frowned and snatched his mate up by his arm.  
"My betas never kneel." he snapped, and pushed Damon back onto the couch. "Especially not my pregnant betas."

Damon didn't look reassured; his eyes wandered back to Péron to correct this situation, tell him what to do.  
"Then you spoil them, My Alpha." Péron responded, as respectfully as he could. Kriston growled low in his throat.  
"Your distaste for humans has grown into insolence, Péron."  
"Your taste for humans allows them to undermine the very structure of our society." Péron answered, smoothly, his posture still deferential. Kriston's eyes lit, and he tilted his head.  
"Is that a challenge, Officer?"  
Péron turned his face away in the mildest gesture of passivity he could manage.  
"No challenge, First Alpha. Only correction."  
"You think it your place to correct me?"  
Péron attempted to remedy his misstep.  
"A suggestion, First Alpha. I only want the best for our Pack. Our society. Our Wolfish society."  
Kriston took one threatening step forward.  
"Our society is their society, Péron. We are one now, and as rulers, we demand synthesis, not submission." this seemed to strike a sore spot, and Péron glowered at his First, but, unable to speak further, turned his annoyance on Damon.  
"Finish your apology." the wolfe snapped.  
Damon's breath hitched.  
"Damon, stop it." Kriston interrupted. " **Now**."

Kriston was angry, but Péron was terrifying, and for a moment, Damon wasn't sure who to obey. Remembering punishments, Péron won out.  
"I apologize, Alpha, for my behavior. I deserve - "  
"Stop it now!" Kriston was on his feet, approaching Péron, but his words were still directed at his mate. "Damon, if you speak another word, you'll be punished."  
Damon shut up right away, but sat looking confused as Kriston circled Péron.

“What happened to my mate?” Kriston asked, enunciating every word clearly. Péron watched the Alpha move and didn't speak. Kriston's voice dropped. “I repeat: What happened to my mate, Officer Péron?”  
The wolfe seemed to hesitate, then, without looking directly at Kriston, began to recite,  
“The human was inducted into class 32 of the Beta Rehabilitation Centre of the ColdRiver Pack in Year P2. All arrangements were made in accordance with the protocol HB9-7-1, sections 15 – 32. Notification was given to the human's residence, which - “  
Kriston ended this, abruptly, by putting his fist through the wall beside Péron's head.

“What the hell did you do to him, Péron?” he snarled, his voice losing its humanness and going distinctly feral, “You did this to him, didn't you? You were there, weren't you? It's your BRC. Is this what goes on inside your damned BRC?!"  
Péron regarded his Alpha with a mixture of defiance, fear, and confusion.  
"You asked that he be made more docile." he answered, coolly.  
Kriston was horrified.  
"I didn't say make him like this!"  
Péron looked over his Alpha's shoulder at the shaking human.  
“You said to do whatever it took."  
Kriston faltered, recognizing the trademark words of his own temperamental rage.  
“I didn't say to ruin him.” he snapped. “I never asked you to ruin my mate.”  
Behind him, Damon's breath sped up again.  
“He isn't ruined, Alpha, he - “  
“He is, and you goddamn well know it!” Kriston snapped. “Now you tell me what you did to him so I know just what to throw you in the Lower Levels for.”  
Péron's eyes narrowed.  
“You want me jailed for your offense. You said to teach him, at any cost, what it meant to be a beta.”  
"I said teach, not traumatize." Kriston hissed at Péron. “You knew your bounds."  
"I didn't ruin him." Péron insisted. "He is a beta. I taught him that. His position in our society - in our hierarchy is deferential to yours. He is behaving as his position demands. Or have you become too polluted with human ways to remember the way things were?"  
"I remember perfectly!" Kriston growled. "But things change. We progress."  
"This is not progress!” Péron hissed, emotion finally breaking through the stoic facade. “It is destruction. The way they speak to us! The things they demand...the status they take from good, strong wolfes who are demoted to being their caretakers - "  
“You demanded the BRC from me, Péron! You _wanted_ your position!”  
“Only because I had no choice!” the wolfe rejoined. “These humans - they're tearing us apart. From the inside out. They must be controlled, and if they cannot be controlled, then we will all be destroyed."

Kriston took this in and wished he hadn't, but he fought back regardless.  
"If it weren't for our progress, Officer Péron, our human influence, you would be dead where you stand."  
Péron shifted his ears back slightly in response to the decidedly unsubtle reminder of his own position.  
"My First, I will remind you - "  
"Don't try to turn your crime on me, Péron. You have wronged your Pack, you have wronged your Alpha, and you have wronged your Alpha's mate. Ever since Damon arrived here, you've been determined to break him. I didn't see it it before, but it's clear to me now. You've manipulated me, tricked and deceived your way into getting your hands on him, and I'm sorry I didn't figure it all out sooner.” Kriston shook his head. “The only sense I can't seem to make in it is why. Why do you hate him?"  
A moment, just too long, and then, helplessly, Péron confessed:  
"I don't."

In those words, Kriston began to understand. There was a moment of silence between them, and then Kriston rediscovered his anger and had Péron by the throat. He stared evenly at his captive.  
"You wanted him."  
There was a dead silence.  
Everything was still, and even Damon held his breath, waiting for an answer. For a moment, Péron had the face of a child, and then it was gone again and his teeth were bared and the words spat out at his challenger.  
"I have never wanted a human in my life. Let alone one so worthless as that."

Without hesitation, Kriston slammed his head into the wall.  
"Am I not your Alpha?" he demanded, enraged. He threw Péron to the floor, where the smaller wolfe yelped and Damon heard a distinct cracking sound. Kriston loomed over him. "Am I not your Alpha, Péron!?"  
Péron lifted his head, looked one last time at Damon, then turned to Kriston and growled.  
“No.”

The last distinguishable shape Damon saw was Kriston's shift; then it was all fur and blood and the terrible ripping sounds that Damon knew meant open skin. When they came out of it, Kriston had the animal Péron's throat in a bite, choking him to the ground. As suddenly as they had shifted first, they went back, and now two-legged Péron was bleeding out over Kriston's hands, which were tight around his throat. Kriston held for long, tense moments until the other wolfe finally collapsed. Slowly, Kriston looked up from where he knelt, crouching over Péron's prone figure, to turn to his mate. Damon whimpered and drew back.  
"Get out." Kriston snarled at him. “ **Get out**.”

* * *

An hour later, Kriston found Damon staring blankly at the wall in a spare room on the other side of their living quarters. He gave no indication that he acknowledged Kriston's presence, but the wolfish ears heard his heartbeat pick up. Finally, he moved, lifting his head towards Kriston, but keeping his eyes firmly downcast.

"Alpha?" The words were so soft that even the wolfe had to strain to hear them.  
"I'm here."  
"I'm sorry I acted like that."  
"Don't be."  
There was a sniffling quiet that made it apparent that Damon was crying.  
“I'm sorry that I'm ruined.”  
Kriston felt that like a punch in the gut.  
“You're not – I didn't -” he stopped, and exhaled slowly. “No, I'm sorry, Damon. I shouldn't have said that. You're not ruined. You're just hurt. And you're hurt because of me, because...” Kriston felt a searing pain in his belly that must have been regret. “Because I fucked up. Because I didn't think.”

Damon made a muffled sound, and Kriston wanted to go to him, but held himself back. If he didn't say everything now, it would never be said.

“I'm sorry that I sent you to the BRC, Day. And I don't know exactly what happened to you there, but I know it was awful and I knew that, honestly, before you went. I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I _wanted_ to hurt you. I'm sorry that my temper -” he exhaled again, uncertain of himself, “Grew beyond my control. But please, please know that I will never let you be hurt again.”

Damon whimpered, then sniffled, and now Kriston did go to him, laying arms around his shoulders and holding the small back tight to him. Damon made no effort to reciprocate the embrace, but neither did he move away, and so for long moments, they both just rested. Kriston was silent, pondering perhaps this, perhaps something else. Damon, however, took the time to summon his courage and speak.

"I also have to tell you something, alpha." he whispered.  
The wolfe's heartbeat picked up thirty paces, but he maintained a calm exterior.  
"Tell me anything, love."  
Tears were coming from Damon again, and Kriston began to feel deeply, deeply worried.  
"You'll punish me, but -"  
"I won't."  
Damon chewed his lip and took in a long breath.  
"Péron - "  
"Don't speak his name to me." Damon glanced up at his mate. "Don't ever speak his name to me again."

The human swallowed and looked back down.  
"Sorry, Alpha - "  
"Use my name."  
"Sorry, Kriston." the tears that Damon had thought were past reappeared suddenly, and he used the back of his hand to wipe them away. "When I was at the BRC, I did...things."  
Kriston tensed.  
"What things?"

Damon moved off the chair and went to stand several feet from his wolfe, closer to the door, putting a safer amount of distance between the two of them.  
"I hated what they did to me, Alpha. I hated who they made me be. I couldn't do it anymore, I couldn't take it. Do you understand? I couldn't do it anymore, they - " Damon dragged in a few ragged breaths and Kriston just let him continue. "I hated Pé - that wolfe. The things he made me do to him, I just - “ Damon had to take another minute to recollect himself.  
"I just had to get out. So some of the guards, they cut me a deal."  
"What kind of deal?" Kriston asked, suspiciously.  
Damon was shaking, hard.  
“They said they wanted to fuck the Alpha's mate.”  
Kriston exploded into violence.  
"For FUCK'S sake!" he swore and jerked away from his mate. Damon made a keening sound and scooted away from the wolfe as quickly as he could.  
“I'm sorry, Alpha! I didn't! Alpha, please!” he sobbed, and Kriston felt like an ass again. Repentant, he crept closer to his mate, trying to control the heaving rage inside of him. Damon, unconsciously, put one hand to his stomach, where it was now roiling from the upset.  
“No, Damon, I'm sorry. It's not you I'm mad at, puppy. It's not you."

Damon exhaled sharply, but remained where he was, tense and ready to run. Kriston took one of the human's hands in his own.  
“Please tell me the rest.”  
Damon hesitated, then went on.  
“They couldn't, they knew. Because I was unchanged. But they wanted to do other things, and they...they said they would tell you I'd gotten out early because I learned fast."  
Kriston remembered reading the papers.  
Strong ability to adapt. Good behaviour. Exhibits extraordinary positive growth in the direction of assimilation, consistent with the goals of the Empire.  
Each word felt like a slap in the face. More pieces made sense.  
"You didn't slip in the pool."  
"Huh?"  
"The bruise. You didn't slip into the pool at Recovery."  
Damon was silent. If he said too much, it might implicate Alex, a chance he wasn't willing to take.  
"Were there others, too?"  
Damon didn't answer.  
"Were there other bruises, Damon?" Kriston's voice was hard, and Damon was shaken up enough to answer immediately.  
"No, Alpha, none."

Kriston growled and slammed a fist into the wall, swearing out some words in a language that Damon didn't understand.  
"We are taking this to Garron and the Council. These wolfes have committed an act of war, upon ColdRiver and upon my mate. They have broken our trust in their authority, and they have undermined my edicts with their treatment of our betas. They will be put to trial, and they will die for this."  
Damon's eyes got wide.  
"Alpha, no!" Kriston looked at his mate with a mix of shock and horror.  
"You defend them?"  
Damon tried to think quickly, realizing how his protest sounded to wolfish ears. It sounded like betrayal.  
"No! I just...I mean, lock them away, or exile them, or something, but - kill them, Alpha? Hasn't ColdRiver lost enough?"  
Kriston seemed to accept this reasoning, and sighing, began to cross the room to approach his mate. Damon watched him warily, fear battling with reason.

Closer, Kriston stroked his hair, smoothing it down where it had escaped its halfway braided state.  
"I am sorry, love. But we are wolfes, and for us, this is the way things must be."  
Damon met his eyes.  
"Is there no alternative?"  
Kriston held his mate's gaze for a long, meaningful moment before he spoke.  
"I am a wolfe, Damon. Not a man."

* * *

 **EndWinter, Year Two (11th Moon)**

It was late afternoon, and despite the cool air, Damon had gone to sit outside with Alex. Now that Péron's final trial date was set, he and Kriston felt they could relax. Damon had begun to settle into compound life, and he and Alex, who had developed an intense desire to be outdoors in the latter months of his pregnancy (which convinced him that his litter was mostly wolfe), had taken to garden lunches.

"Do you suppose he's mad at me?" Damon pondered aloud, looking up from the untouched plate before him.  
"No, I think he's worried about you." Alex responded. Damon nodded, but still looked concerned.  
"He's been acting funny lately. Like he's avoiding telling me something." Damon furrowed his brow for a moment, considering what to say next, and just then, Kriston came up behind him. He covered Damon's eyes with his right hand, then lifted it to reveal a small bunch of flowers clasped in his left. Damon smiled and Kriston took his hand.

"C'mon, let's go. I want to steal you away for an hour or so." Kriston nodded towards the building, and Damon glanced back at Alex, who waved goodbye, then got up to follow.  
"Where're we going?" Damon asked, smiling as he followed his alpha towards the portico that led inside.  
"Just for a walk." Kriston held the door for his mate, ushering him in with a widely exaggerated gesture.  
"Indoors, Kriston?" Damon asked, laughing, as Kriston led him by the hand to the elevator.  
"We just have to stop in for a second." the wolfe reassured, kissing his mate's neck.  
"Kriston, where are we going?" Damon giggled as the elevator stopped. Kriston didn't answer, only led him out and down the hallway. Damon grew slightly nervous.  
"Kriston?" When the wolfe remained silent, Damon's apprehension magnified, but he followed his wolfe anyway. When they reached the end of the hallway, Damon suddenly realized where he was. Hesitation quickly bloomed into full-fledged hysterics.  
"Why are we at the infirmary, Kriston?" Damon backed away from the looming double doors.  
"Because, puppy, we need to take care of some things."  
"I'm not sick, Kriston, I feel fine."  
"I know, puppy, it's not about that."  
"There's nothing wrong with me, Kriston, I'm fine, I don't need to go in there." Damon pulled his hand away from Kriston and crossed his arms.  
"I know you're fine, pup. We just have to go in for a minute, OK? Just a minute, then we can leave."  
"Why do I have to go in?"  
"It's just for a minute, puppy."  
"I'm not going in!"  
"Damon..."  
"You can't make me!"  
"Damon, that's enough."  
"I'm not sick, Kriston!" Kriston sighed and there was a moment of silence. Then, swiftly, he surged forward, closed his arms around Damon, mindful of his now-sensitive belly, and lifted him. Damon kicked viciously, wriggling to get free, but Kriston kept control easily, his strength overpowering his young mate. Inside the infirmary doors, a nurse joined in the scuffle, on Kriston's side, and helped restrain Damon to a bed. Damon tugged at his bonds sadly for a moment, then whimpered and looked pitifully up at Kriston. His eyes were full of a hurt and betrayal that made the wolfe cringe.

* * *

Kriston stood behind the glass, watching silently. The doctors had been sifting through Damon's memories for an hour now, and had enough evidence to determine a sentence for his five abusers. Though the procedure was not painful, Damon had had to be sedated, and now lay sleeping. At last, the doctors finished, and Kriston was allowed to take his mate home. Refusing offers of help from his lieges, he lifted Damon's sleeping form himself and carried his mate back to their floor. He laid Damon down on the bed and tucked him in, then climbed in next to him.

When Kriston awoke, he was alone in bed, but Damon's presence was evident. Clothes littered the floor around the closet, and the distinct smell of Damon's cologne lingered on the air. There was a rustling in the bathroom, and Kriston sat up to look. Damon jumped when he came out of the door, seeing Kriston awake and sitting. He reflexively pulled his T-shirt down to cover his stomach, but Kriston leapt forward to stop him.

"Show me." the demand was softened into something like a question. Damon flushed, but did as requested and lifted his shirt just enough to show his stomach. Kriston was mesmerized. He reached out to stroke Damon's belly, not looking at his mate.  
"How long has it been?" he asked quietly.  
"Four and a half months." Damon said without intonation.  
"I've missed a lot of it, haven't I?" Kriston's regret was evident in his words. Damon was quiet.  
"I guess so." Kriston frowned, then took Damon's hands in his own and pulled him down to lie on the bed. As they laid there together, Kriston moved, stretching his body over his mate's and nuzzling Damon's neck gently.  
"Love you, puppy." he murmured against Damon's skin. Damon shivered with the sensation and turned into his alpha's touch. “And I always will.”


	9. The Value Of Memories In Winter

**First Winter, Year Three (1st Moon)**

When he came to, he was lying down, but on a softer surface this time, one which he quickly identified as an infirmary bed. There was light, and the familiar sound of hushed voices and muffled movement. Kaz inhaled deeply. He knew he was in one of the private rooms, although apparently only so in name, as he opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by the Doctor, First Alpha Mate Alex, the Beta Doctor, and several of the other nurses. He blinked up at six concerned faces.

"Here." Alex offered him water in a cup, which he gratefully took, gulping it down without stopping. The Beta Doctor took the cup from him and set it on the bedside table.   
"You fainted." she stated simply. Kaz swallowed thickly and tried to sit up. Her hands on his chest held him down. "You need to rest." he shook his head and tried again. Alex frowned worriedly and looked across at the Doctor.   
"I'm OK, guys, really."

The Doctor exchanged another look with Alex and promptly excused himself from the room, taking with him two of the nurses. One, Blit, remained, and he immediately took up a seat on the now unoccupied stool across from Kaz's bed. The silence and worried stares were beginning to make him nervous.

"Honestly. I'm fine. I'm just a little tired because I've been working so much lately." Kaz tried to give a bright smile, but it came out a bit forced and so he gave it up altogether and just tried to look sincere. "Maybe I overdo it a bit, yeah?" Alex bit his lip.  
"Well, you won't be, anymore."   
Kaz's face fell and his heartbeat heightened about thirty paces.  
"Why not?"  
"Kaz, you're six and a half weeks pregnant." Horror started to form a pool at the bottom of his stomach.  
"I'm not." his voice sounded disconnected, distant from himself. "I can't be; I'm not bonded to anyone." Alex exchanged a look with the Beta Doctor.   
"We know." he edged his chair closer to the bed. Kaz's eyes grew larger and he shook his head violently.   
"I haven't - I don't - I'm not like that."  
"It's OK, Kaz, we'll work it out. But you need to talk to us right now."  
"I'm not with."   
"Kaz, we need you to tell us who the father is." This snapped him out of his trancelike state, and he looked at Alex with firm, resistant eyes.  
"I can't."  
"Kaz, we need you to tell us."  
"No."  
"Why not?"  
"I don't know."  
"You don't know who the father is?" Alex's brow furrowed deeply and Kaz considered his choice of lie.  
"I can't tell you, please."

Alex exchanged a long look with the Beta Doctor.  
"Kaz," she began, "If you don't tell us, then we'll have to make an evidenced assumption. Which means that we'll name Mika to be investigated." Kaz looked shocked. "An investigation, you're aware, will be listed on his permanent report." She looked sternly at Kaz.  
"No!" he cried, trying to sit up again. "It's not him, he's not the father! Mika didn't have anything to do with this, don't get him involved, please?"  
"Well, Kaz, if you don't tell us who the father is, we'll have to have him investigated. Until you can provide us with some new information, he is the most likely candidate." She crossed her arms and stared resolutely back at him. Alex leaned in closer and took one of Kaz's hands in his.  
"Kaz, if you help us, we can help you. Tell us who the father is."   
Kaz swallowed as well as he could with a mostly dry mouth and looked slowly up at Alex from the floor.

"He - " Kaz drew in a hitching breath and tried again. "I - I didn't want to." Kaz drew his knees up to his chest in the bed, mangling the blanket which had, up till then, been peacefully resting over his legs. "He made me. I didn't want to do it." Alex moved onto the bed and put one arm over the young man's shoulders. Kaz was shivering now, which worried Alex.   
"Am I in a lot of trouble?" he asked to no one in particular, eyes drifting back down to the floor. Alex exhaled.  
"Well, that depends on how much you feel like helping us." he rubbed Kaz's shoulder with the hand that was there and leaned back. "You have to tell us, Kaz."   
The young human opened his mouth to speak, then looked panicked.  
"Will you promise me something first?"   
"What do you need?" the Beta Doctor asked, leaning in close.  
"I don't want to give up my litter." Kaz frowned and chewed on a thumb. "I want to keep them, have them. OK?"   
Alex nodded, as did the Beta Doctor, though from the expression on her face, he could tell she thought this was a particularly illogical request.  
"OK." Kaz took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He turned his head to the left, focusing on a spot just off in the distance. "It's Péron."

Alex frowned, uncomprehending, but the Beta Doctor slowly leaned in closer, resting one hand on the edge of the medical bed.   
"Kaz..." she began slowly, "Military Officer Péron?" Lights went on in Alex's head. Kaz was nodding and now tears, uncontrollable, were beginning to pour from the corners of the young wolfe's eyes.  
"OK, Kaz." the BD took Kaz into her arms, holding him gently and expressing more tenderness than Alex had ever seen her show.  
"Are we going to have to tell people?" he whispered and she nodded.  
"Just a few."   
Kaz swallowed again and nodded.  
"They'll think I'm lying."   
The BD didn't disagree.  
"They may have your memories searched."  
"Why would they think he was lying?" Alex interrupted. "Péron's a known criminal." Both the BD and Kaz looked up at Alex in confusion.  
"Pardon?"  
"He's being tried for severe abuse of a beta, assault with intent to kill, challenge of a superior, and conspiracy to treason. He's being held down in the lower levels."   
The BD tightened her lips.  
"The lower levels..." the Beta Doctor frowned in concentration. "Then he's to be destroyed?"   
Alex shrugged.   
"I wouldn't know."

The BD turned to Kaz.  
"Kaz, you have to be good now. We're going to have to take this to Garron and the Council, right away."  
"No!" Kaz pushed away from her arms, violently. "No! They'll kill them!"  
"Kaz - "  
"They will and you know it!"  
"Kill who?" Alex was confused by this sudden change in atmosphere.  
"My litter." Kaz whined, his hands wrapped tightly around his stomach.  
"Why would they do that?" Alex asked, bewildered, but the BD ignored his inquiry.  
"Kaz, now, you have to think about what's best for them."  
"No!" Kaz was openly sobbing now.   
"Kaz, think of the lives they'd have."  
"Don't take them!"  
"You can have other litters, Kaz - with a mate who loves you."  
"No! Please! Please, don't! Please don't take them!"   
"Kaz - "  
"I'll take exile, I'll leave, but don't kill them!" Kaz's hysteria was rising exponentially, and the BD decided that the best course of action might be to leave the subject alone.  
"Alright, Kaz. We won't take your litter." Kaz looked desperate and hopeful at once.  
"Do you promise?"  
"I promise." the BD now stroked his head gently, fingering the curls that were interspersed with tiny, short braids. "But only if you promise to get some rest now. And that you won't overwork yourself anymore. And you have to start eating better, or someone will accuse you of neglect." Kaz nodded vigorously.  
"I will."   
"Alright, then." she got to her feet as Kaz laid back down in the bed and pulled the blankets up to his chest. "Have a nap, and we'll come get you when it's time to go home, alright?" Kaz nodded again and the BD went to the door, gesturing for Alex and the nurse to follow.

* * *

Away from the private rooms and back towards the main entrance, she stopped.   
"First Alpha Mate Alexei, do you think it would be possible to contact your mate at the moment?"   
Alex shrugged.  
"He may be in conference, but I'll call for him."   
The doctor frowned, then looked off down the hallway towards the room where Kaz was sleeping.  
"They won't let him keep the litter." she said, thinking out loud. Alex looked at her, surprised.  
"Then you lied."  
She glanced briefly at him, then shrugged and nodded.  
"If he's telling the truth, they'll probably give him Recall therapy anyway. He won't remember it."  
"If? You think he's lying?"   
This time she looked genuinely surprised.  
"No. I know Kaz. And, unfortunately, I know Péron." she paused. "I've seen him, these past months, skulking around here, and I've noticed him talking to Kaz. It didn't seem especially strange; these males all do seem to adore him, and I supposed Péron was just joining the masses." she sighed. "But I do wish I'd been more careful now." she looked back to Alex. "At any rate, we'll have to report it."   
She continued on down the hallway and Alex walked up, trying to keep pace with her as Blit trailed behind.

* * *

Upstairs, in the mid-level conference room, one of the wolfes at the table was looking up, slowly entering the conversation.

"Kaz?" he leaned back slightly in his chair, a smile creeping across his face. "I know that one. Nurse, isn't he? Came in to give me my physical once." The edge of his mouth quirked into a smile that Mika didn't at all appreciate. "I offered twice to return the favor."

The other wolfes roared with laughter, but Mika just narrowed his eyes at the wolfe staring easily back at him from across the table. The wolfe squared his shoulders and Mika tensed to growl.   
"Easy," Kriston chuckled, "Easy, he's only making fun. He's no intentions for your mate."   
The wolfe looked surprised.  
"He's your mate? My apolog - "   
"No." Garron cut in, laughing. "They're not mated. He's protective already and he hasn't even got his lit in him yet."   
At his elder wolfe's teasing and assurance that the other meant him no harm, Mika relaxed, just a little.  
"Haven't got anything in him yet." he amended, and the laughter renewed.  
"Well, you haven't pursued him, really." Kriston pointed out mildly. "He's probably no idea how serious your intentions are."   
"Go and get him if you want him!" another of the wolfes cried out.   
"It's not that simple." Mika mumbled, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed by all the attention.

"What's the problem?" another anonymous voice ventured.  
"I don't think he'd want me."   
"What, has someone got him already?"  
"No, no one's got him. I dunno why,” Mika admitted, shifting uncomfortably. “It's just what I think.”  
Garron shook his head.   
“No, it's what you're afraid of. But it isn't true, you know.” he laughed, “I've seen him keep a seat for you at noonmeal for half a year now. And wasn't it him who had your sparring clothes smelling of jasmine the entire springtime that he was working in the laundry?”  
Mika blushed furiously. He'd been teased about that for two years now.  
“He was trying to be nice.”  
“Of course he was, because he's in love with you.”  
“But the others - “  
"- all think you're already after him." Kriston interjected.

Mika suddenly began to greatly dislike this discussion.  
"Well, that's wrong. I haven't got any intentions for him, and he hasn't got any for me."  
"Oh, we've all got intentions." One of the older wolfes spoke. "It's actions that are important."   
"Listen, what's his favorite food?" Another anonymous voice.   
"Gualup meat, broiled lightly, with lots of cheese."  
"And what color are his eyes?"  
"Green, with bits of brown and gold."   
Some of the wolfes laughed.

"You're desperate over him." one of the Elder wolfes said, smiling. "So tell him that you'll have him in for dinner and make gualup. Take him outdoors, watch the sun set, lead him to the hot baths, and you can have him nursing by this moon next year."  
The other wolfes around the table nodded and Mika considered the suggestion.

"Maybe." he frowned. "It's always hard to get him away, though. He works so much."   
"Long hours, at his age?" Garron queried. "Who's allowing that?"   
"No one," Mika responded, quick to defuse any potential situation. "He volunteers to do it sometimes, then sneaks in and stays anyway when they send him home. He just loves being able to help."  
Garron grunted.  
"Well, there's something you'll have to break him of once you're his mate."   
"You know it isn't good for them, the young ones." Another of the older wolfes agreed, "Too much work, too much stress – makes them infertile and ill-tempered. To have one of those qualities in a mate is misfortune, but two is one's own responsibility."   
The other wolfes chuckled at this.

"Anyway,” Garron went on, “You're going to have to go and talk to him; tell him what you want from him now, or you'll never get it."  
"OK." Mika nodded, trying to end the conversation. "I'll do it. I'll talk to him after we conclude here."  
"Excellent!” Garron, ever the troublemaker, beamed, “Because if my Legion have no further objections," here he looked meaningfully around the room, "then we can close and you can go and do it right now."   
Mika paled a little.   
"Now...now?"  
"Yes. Rirrorin," he said, gesturing to one of the other wolfes, "Call my mate; tell him that he and Kaz are urgently needed at the council room."

* * *

Alex heard the wall call his name as he passed, and he froze in place, then backed up to answer it.  
"Um, hello?"  
He felt incredibly stupid talking to a wall, but the Beta Doctor didn't look perturbed, and Blit just looked worried about Kaz, who was listing to port and looking a bit worse for the wear, so he figured it couldn't be too out of the ordinary.

"Sorry to disturb you, First Alpha Mate Alexei, but Our Alpha requests your presence in the council room as soon as possible."  
Alex quirked one eyebrow.  
"An uncanny coincidence, as I was just on my way there."  
There was a pause at the other end.  
"Good. Good, then. Also, he says to bring the nurse named Kaz. Someone here would like to speak to him."  
Everyone in Alex's party carried matching looks of shock. Well, everyone except for Kaz, who simply continued to look as if he were about to be ill.  
"We'll be there immediately. Who am I speaking with, liege?"  
"Officer Rirrorin, First Alpha Mate."  
"Ah, da, OK." Alex tried very hard to remember which one Rirrorin was. "See you soon, then. Dosvedanya."  
"Dosvedanya, First Alpha Mate."

* * *

The group arrived and, at the Beta Doctor's suggestion, Alex went in first to speak to Garron and discreetly lay the foundation for the admission that was to come. Immediately recognizing both the delicacy of the situation and the incomparably poor timing, Garron defused the entire thing by teasingly telling Mika that Alexei had issues of a human nature to discuss with him, and perhaps the Colwinter Festival in three weeks would be a better time for Mika to publicly present himself to his future mate. More relieved than curious, the young wolfe did not question his good fortune, but left immediately, following Rirrorin, his camp leader, and Second Alpha Wolfe Kriston towards the outer perimeter of the compound for midday patrol rounds. Kaz, waiting in the opposite hallways, managed to miss him.

* * *

"These accusations are quite disturbing, First Alpha Mate Alex." the Elder wolfe sat heavily down.

Around the table, very serious looks were being exchanged. Alex was seated at the center left, with a red-eyed and miserable-looking Kaz beside him. Garron sat across the table, praising the moon for her cleverness in sending Kriston out on patrol before this issue could come up. Discussing Péron with the Second Alpha at the table was like setting fire to a stack of hay and inviting a tank of gasoline.

"We're aware. But they are true."  
the Elder nodded, then turned slowly to Kaz.  
"Kaz, we're going to need you to tell us exactly what's happened."   
Alex looked at him and Kaz nodded.  
"Péron and I met six months ago; I was treating him for burns after a South Woods struggle. He was OK then - kind of indifferent to me, it seemed. But then about a week later, he showed up at the infirmary. Said he was still getting some pain from his burns, and some other body aches, so I told him that I would look him over." Kaz swallowed. "And it seemed like he was kind of coming on to me, but I didn't want to be vain. I took him to one of the rooms, and it was OK because, you know, they're glass. But then he wanted to go to a private room. So we went, and then he started asking me all these questions - like if I was bonded yet, and I told him no, and then he really was coming on to me, and he – well, he's Péron, he's so powerful, I didn't..." he trailed off.

"You're frightened of him?" another wolfe prodded. Kaz didn't say anything - just looked shiftily around. "It's alright if you are, Kaz. Just remember that our authority outranks his. Even if he forced you into silence, you must tell us everything."   
Kaz looked desperately up at the Elder.  
"He's so...big. I just didn't want him to be angry with me."  
"You meant to refuse him?"  
Kaz nodded.   
"It's just that I don't - I mean, I know that he's a very powerful and respectable and worthy wolfe, but he's just...not my mate." Kaz cast desperately around for understanding. The wolfes around him exchanged glances.  
"Go on, Kaz."

"In - in the private room, he locked the door, and that made me nervous, but I couldn't get past him to unlock it and I didn't want to make him upset. Then he started to ask me stuff: whether I had any family, and why I wasn't bonded. Then he started coming closer to me, and I panicked, and I just wanted to make him leave me alone, and so I told him that I was tested sterile. I know that it's wrong to lie to a superior wolfe, but I just thought it would put him off me." Kaz trailed off. "But I think that's exactly what he was looking for." There was a disturbed silence.

"Then he asked me what the first thing was that I'd learnt in Academy. And I told him - obedience. And he asked me if ignoring a direct request from a superior wolfe would be disobedient. And I didn't really understand where he was going, so I said yes. And then he told me to come to him, and I was really scared then, because he had this look, and I kind of started to know what was happening." Kaz focused hard on the table in front of him.

"My friend, he told me before that sometimes really powerful wolfes can take you as a mate without your consent, and that you have to accept them. So I kind of thought that maybe Péron was doing that, because I didn't think that wolfes did things like that to betas without mating them. I guess that was wrong." There was more silence at the table, and Kaz scrubbed at his eyes with one wrist. "So he said to come to him, again, and I came, even though I was scared, because I didn't know what else to do, and he said not to be afraid of him, and then he started to touch me, and -" Kaz's voice hitched and the tears started to come again.  
"Come, Kaz." Alex rubbed his shoulder. "The quicker you tell, the quicker this can all be over with."   
Kaz nodded, swallowed a knot in his throat, and went on.  
"And he started to undress me, and I asked him to stop and he didn't, and I told him that I wasn't ready, and he growled at me, and I got scared so I pushed him and told him to stop, and he hit me, hard, and said that maybe I would have already been mated if I wasn't so damned disrespectful. He said that I should thank him for what he was about to do because it would be helping me; he said he was going to teach me my place in the Pack. And then I really knew what was definitely happening, and I went for the door, but he grabbed me by my neck and I couldn't get away anymore, and then he -" his voice broke again, "he had me."

"There?" one of the Elders asked. Kaz bowed his head again, humiliated.  
"On the desk." Kaz was starting to tear up again. "And it hurt, really bad, and then I thought about what he said, and…I know I don't always do exactly what I'm supposed to; I can be disobedient, and I can be kind of insolent sometimes, even without meaning to. And in Academy, they taught us that bad things happen to bad betas, so I don't know. I just thought maybe..."  
Kaz shook his head, light brown curls falling forward over his eyes.  
"But at the time, I was mostly just confused because I didn't understand why, if he thought I was such a bad beta, he would try to mate me. So then I asked him, after - " he stopped again and took in several long breaths. "After he finished. I asked him if he was going to mate me now, or if he would wait until I was finished my training because maybe I would be a better beta then, and he laughed and said that he would think about it." he swallowed slowly. "Then I understood. Then it made sense. And I felt really dumb."

There was a pause, and one of the elders spoke.  
"Please go on, Kaz. I know it's hard."   
Kaz glanced a thanks at him and started again.  
"Then I tried to get up, but he told me to stay where I was." the tears were coming again, and Kaz sucked in a ragged breath and didn't bother wiping his eyes. "He just made me stand like that, forever, and everything still hurt, and I felt -" Kaz stopped himself, and closed his eyes to take three deep breaths in. "And then I cried, and he told me not to cry, because I had pleased him." Kaz's lip trembled. "I'm so stupid."

Alex rubbed his shoulder and leaned close to him.   
"You're not stupid, Kaz. Tell them the rest."  
Kaz picked at the table and tried to slow his breathing.   
"And he told me not to say anything about it to anyone, because if I did, then he'd say that I offered myself, and I'd get put in the Lower Levels." Kaz turned desperately to Alex.   
"But I don't deserve that, First Alpha Mate - I didn't do anything! I didn't offer myself, I swear. I don't deserve the Lower Levels - you have to believe me!" An elder raised a hand, and Kaz quieted.  
"When did you next see him after that, Kaz?"

Kaz hesitated before responding.   
"He would come to my room."  
"When?"  
"At different times. But he always knew when I was home, I think." Kaz glanced up at Alex. "That's why I started working so much. I thought that if I was always there, then he couldn't get to me. But that was stupid, too. He started to come to find me, and I was scared that he would make a scene if I didn't go with him, and besides, I thought -" Kaz trailed off and shook his head.  
"Please go on, Kaz." Another of the elders spoke gently to him.   
"I thought that maybe if I did what he wanted, then he'd think that I was obedient, and that I was a good beta, and then he would bondmate me."  
A wave of pitying looks passed around the table.

"Did you go through your Change alone, Kaz?"  
The human nodded.  
"I just...I mean, I knew, from working in the infirmary, what was going to happen, so I just took some of the pain dopes home with me that day and then I just...stayed home."  
"That's a very dangerous thing to do, Kaz. Any complications could have occurred, and no one would have even known to help you." one of the Elders scolded.  
Kaz looked frightened again.  
"I had no other choice, Alpha. Please, you have to understand me; I couldn't tell."  
"Kaz, did you even think this through? You knew that you were not sterile. You had completed your Change for this wolfe, and now...what? You would simply hide the pups, or pretend they didn't exist? How could you possibly think this would be kept a secret?"

Kaz took a long moment and concentrated very hard on not looking at Alex when he answered.  
"I used iodine."

A murmur went up through the room, and the Elder who had been questioning him sat back in his seat, seemingly stunned into some kind of satisfaction. There was some argument, a few raised voices before Garron made a plea for order and glanced viciously at Alexei, who shrank back a bit himself.

"Kaz, another question, if you can." the gentle Elder from before was speaking. "You said he would come for you, sometimes in the middle of the day. Where did he take you when he came for you like this?"

If the iodine question didn't do it, this one did: Kaz looked quite on the verge of sickness now.  
"To his office." There was a shocked silence in the room. Kaz went on. "But, I didn't see anything! No papers or plans or anything like that, I swear. I wouldn't have looked anyway, Elder, because those things are not for a human's eyes, but he was careful never to let me."   
The silence drew on until finally, one Elder stood.  
"His memories will have to be searched. Take him to the infirmary immediately."

* * *

Back in the infirmary, Kaz sat nervously in the chair while Alex held his hand and the nurses bustled around him.   
"This won't hurt the puppies, will it?"   
"No; it won't hurt you, either, OK?" Kaz nodded, then sighed.   
"How long will it take?"  
"Only about twenty minutes; but you're going to have to stay here for a few days while the information is reviewed." Kaz sighed again, and Alex rubbed his shoulder reassuringly.  
"Everything's going to be OK, Kaz."   
Kaz looked hopefully up at his mentor.   
"Nothing - nothing's going to happen to me, right?" Alex eyed the nurses as they moved away, then leaned conspiratorially in to whisper in Kaz's ear.  
"I swear on my life that I won't let them hurt you."  
Kaz grinned thankfully up at Alex, who patted his head and turned to go.  
"I'll see you as soon as they're done."

* * *

The depth of his memories meant that it took more than three days for the Council to decide Kaz's fate. Alex came to see Kaz on the morning of the verdict, bearing news of what the Council had called.

"Good news! You're free to go without illegal use of contraception charges."   
"I am?" Kaz was ecstatic. He threw his arms around Alex and squeezed him tight.  
"Yup." Alex smiled and sat down next to his friend. "Just one more quick scan, and then you can get out of here."   
Kaz breathed a sigh of relief and Alex stroked his hair.  
"Everyone's missed you at the infirmary. Place isn't the same without you. Even patients ask."  
"Really?"   
"Uh-huh. And there's one warrior-medic in particular who's been very concerned about you." Kaz shook his head at the mention of Mikal.  
"It's only because he doesn't know.” he said, morosely. “He wouldn't want me anymore if he knew."  
"Kaz." Alex fingered one of the braids in Kaz's hair. "Mikal loves you."   
Kaz shook his head in denial.  
"Not if – not if I have a fatherless litter. He'll hate me. He'll think I'm disloyal. And he won't want me infertile because I'm nursing pups that aren't his. He'll make me give them up too early, and they'll die."   
Kaz stated all of these things with a sort of matter-of-fact resignation, and Alex wasn't sure what to say in response, so he just stroked Kaz's hair and tried to be a comfort. Just then, the door cracked open and the Recall therapist poked his head in.  
"One last one, Kazzy."

Kaz groaned, but the Recall therapist just smiled, shook his head, and started to set up his machine.

* * *

The whole thing went pretty quickly, Alex reflected. In less than two hours, the machine was gone, the nurses were cleaning up the room and bringing fresh flowers, and Kaz was sleeping peacefully. The Recall therapist nodded gently to Alex as he headed for the door.  
"That was quick."  
"Since the Council had sifted through his memories so thoroughly for Péron's trial, the ones meant to be deleted were already distinctly tagged and marked. Erasing them was a breeze, First Alpha Mate. And when he wakes up, he can go home."   
Alex nodded.  
"And the lit -"  
"Gone. He'll never know." Alex nodded and the Recall therapist smiled at him and left.

* * *

Mika was pacing outside of the room where Kaz was being treated. He didn't know what was going on, or what was wrong with Kaz, and no one would tell him anything, which only made him worry more. Alex had come through one or two times, looking slightly concerned, but had just patted Mika on the shoulder and told him that everything was fine and Kaz would be alright by the end of the day. Finally, the door cracked open again.

"Mika?" Alex's face poked out and he smiled.  
"First Alpha Mate Alexei! What's going on? Is he OK?"   
Alex grinned at the young wolfe's concern for his soon-to-be mate.  
"Come on; he's awake and everything. You can come in. They say he's ready to go, as long as someone will escort him to his room." Mika smiled wide and rushed into the room, almost pushing Alex out of the way, and slid into the chair by Kaz's bedside. Alex, figuring that the two could probably use a little time alone, stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him.

"Mika!" the relief on Kaz's face was palpable.  
"Kasska." Mika took Kaz into his arms and held him for long minutes.   
When he finally let go, he smiled broadly.  
"They said I can take you home." Kaz's eyes widened a little and Mika frowned, embarrassed, and shook his head. "I meant walk you home. Walk you home."  
"Oh." Kaz said, looking away and playing with a thread from his blanket.  
"What happened, Kasska?"   
Kaz wrinkled his nose.  
"I had the Lack. It must've been really bad. I don't really remember much."  
"Really?"  
"I guess they weren't even sure what it was for a while - I was quarantined."   
Mika nodded in understanding. Unknown diseases were always quarantined in Wolvish compounds. Disease could spread at terrifying rates with so many living so close together. Quarantines were also kept secret, to prevent general panic. That explained why no one would tell him anything about Kaz, and why he'd passed out in the infirmary.   
"But you're OK now?"  
"Mmhmm. They gave me my shots, fixed me all up. I'm feeling much better." Kaz grinned cheekily. "So yeah, you can take me home now."   
Mika reddened a little.  
"I'll get a chair for you." he turned to go, but Kaz's hand stopped him.  
"Mika, I'm not that sick. I can walk, you know."   
Mika looked doubtfully at his companion, but Kaz set his jaw and took up a determined posture, and Mikal didn't want to upset him.  
"OK. Well, we can go then."   
As they left the room, Alex caught Mika by the wrist and stopped him.  
"Garron told me to give you a message; now that Kaz is well again, he sees no point in waiting for the Festival. He wonders if you might like to make a speech at dinner tonight."

* * *

Dinner that night was tense. Mika and Kaz were invited to dine at Garron's table, and were seated three chairs down from their respective Alphas. Garron kept throwing glances Mika's way; the longer the night went on, the more disapproving they became, until finally, the young wolfe simply couldn't stand it anymore. But what could he do? He knew what was expected of him; Garron and he had had a long discussion earlier. He knew that it was make or break time; he would have to propose to Kaz, and he would have to do it tonight. At dinner. With everyone watching. How could -

"You look uncomfortable, Mika." Garron's voice invaded his thoughts. Mika shook his head.  
"No, First Alpha Wolfe Garron. I am simply...hungry."   
"You've already eaten." Garron pointed out reasonably.  
"I have an appetite tonight."  
"Well, that promises for Kaz."   
Mika almost choked on his water.  
"My First - "  
"I think it's time, don't you?" Garron looked at him meaningfully, while Kaz, who had noticed the commotion, turned to look after his wolfe friend, patting Mika lightly on the back.

"Are you OK? Are you choking?" Mika nodded, and smiled meekly at Kaz.  
"Just swallowed wrong." Kaz nodded, and Garron looked hard at Mikal, and Kriston began to notice what was going on.  
"Time?" he asked mildly, and Alex tugged on Garron's sleeve.  
"What's going on?" Garron shook his head as Mika got to his feet. Kaz mouthed a question, but Mika pretended that he hadn't seen it. Garron cleared his throat, and Mika waited until he had the attention of the room, then spoke.

"As you all know, I have just recently received the honor of my position." There was an approving murmur around the room. "And, this being true, my First and I have come to conference on certain topics." Mika paused, and for a moment, Kriston wondered if he would be able to do it after all. He felt a bit sorry for the young wolfe – after all, he himself hadn't had to go to such public and extraordinary measures when he'd taken a mate. "There is something that I have been wanting to do for a long time, and I would like you all to take part in this with me."

There was a quiet but confused murmuring, then Mikal spoke again.  
"Kaz." Mika spoke his name so low that most didn't hear it, and even his table had to strain. Kaz met his eyes, rapt with attention and questions.  
"I have..." he trailed off, and Garron leaned forward in his chair. "I have loved you for a very long time now. If you would do me the honor of considering becoming my mate, I would be forever in your debt." All eyes shifted to Kaz, who was staring hard at the table.  
"Don't tell me no, Kasska." Mika wished softly.   
Kaz didn't respond at first, just continued to stare at the table, and Mika began to feel real fear. Around the room, there was a muffled shifting. Kaz bit his lip and looked up at his wolfe, his companion, his best friend in all the world.  
"I would never tell you no, Ka. Of course."  
Applause rang throughout the chamber, and Kriston and Garron both let out an imperceptibly held breath. Mikal smiled wide, and lifted Kaz bodily from the chair to kiss him.   
"You'll mate me, then?" he whispered against his beta's ear.  
"Of course."  
"Tonight?" he asked eagerly and Kaz laughed.  
"Tomorrow." he kissed Mika's ear. " And every day thereafter."

* * *

 **First Winter, Year Three (3rd Moon)**

Winter had progressed, and with it, the date of Péron's execution had grown closer. All efforts on the part of any pacifists and progressives had been to naught and the night before Damon reached his seventh month, Péron and his men had finally been put to death. Kaz had gotten a sudden headache upon hearing it mentioned in the infirmary, but this had been attributed to stress over an upcoming bonding and so he had simply been sent home to rest. Damon had made his mate swear never to take from him the last thing he truly possessed, and so Kriston had agreed to leave his memories alone.

Subsequently, Damon had been put (or forced, rather) into therapy and Kriston, who had spent the earlier months of his marriage and mate's pregnancy maintaining the same level of distance that he had in his bachelor years, had been told to get involved or get out. Wisely, he had adjusted to spend more time with his mate and Damon grew increasingly used to (and even happy with) his new life.

One afternoon while Damon was napping and Kriston was going over the monthly crop reports, there was a frantic knocking at the door. Kriston went to open it and saw there a tired-looking young nurse. He bowed.  
"Sir, First Alpha Mate Alex is birthing."  
"Now?" Kriston asked worriedly.  
"He's early. First Alpha Wolfe Garron has sent for you."  
"Is Alex alright?"  
"The doctors say there's no need for worry, but he's well into it, practically at the important part, so we should hurry." The nurse bowed again and turned. Kriston went to the bed and shook Damon awake.   
"Darling, come on, we've got to go." Damon lifted his head.  
"Wha-why?"   
"Alex, love, he's in labor."  
"Oh." Damon shook himself awake, and Kriston helped him out of bed.

They followed the nurse through the halls to the nursery level, and then into a small room. Two doctors stood against the wall to the right, and Alex lay on the large bed that occupied most of the room. Alex was crying out in pain and writhing as Garron, decked out in med gear, worked at attending to him. Garron looked up when he heard Kriston enter, and relief flooded his features.

"Damon! Calm him, please! Kriston - here?" Garron was more panicked than Damon had ever seen, and it made him anxious. He went to stand next to Alex's head and bent over his friend, stroking his hair.   
"Easy, boy, it's going to be OK, buddy, you're doing fine, alright?" Alex looked up at him and nodded. He squinted against the pain.  
"Aagh, Damon..." Alex reached desperately out for his friend.  
"I'm here, just keep breathing." Damon took his hand.  
"This thing hurts." Alex squeezed tight. Damon swallowed.  
"I know, but it'll all be done soon." Alex whimpered.  
"Alex! The first one is crowning! Push, puppy."

Alex managed to do as he was told, and thirty-four grueling minutes later, the last puppy was out. Alex, who had been drifting in and out of consciousness, had finally decided on out, and Garron was gently cleaning his sleeping mate.

"Wonderful." Kriston said, kissing the top of Damon's head. "You were such a help."   
Damon accepted the praise, but was silent. He was silent as he followed Kriston and Garron out of the room. He was silent as they helped Alex into a bed. He was silent on the walk back through the halls to the Alpha quarters.  
It was only when they'd arrived back at their own wing that he spoke.   
"Kriston,” he said, his voice having qualities of both terror and utter calm, “I can't do that." Kriston blinked at him.  
"Do what?"  
"THAT." Damon gestured vaguely, and Kriston turned to look behind himself. "What Alex did. Actually have the puppies. I can't do that." Kriston blinked again, in surprise, before enveloping his mate in a hug.  
"Of course you can."   
"No!" Damon resisted the embrace, but Kriston didn't let him go.  
"Yes. I'll be there the whole time, I promise. It'll be fine."  
"S'easy for you to say." he mumbled against his wolfe's chest.  
"I swear I'll take care of you." Damon ground his jaw for a minute, then laid his head on Kriston's shoulder.  
"What if something goes wrong?" he asked in a small voice.   
"Nothing's going to go wrong, I'll see to it." Kriston laid a kiss on his mate's forehead. "Now why don't you go back to sleep for a while?"   
Still worried, but no longer interested in talking about it, Damon nodded tiredly and allowed his wolfe to lead him to bed.

* * *

One week later, Damon and Kriston went to Alex's nursery to see the puppies. There was a large, low bed in the center of the room, and Garron and Alex were spooned together on it. Around Alex were 5 tiny babies, three with tails and two without.  
"Day." Alex smiled weakly when they entered. Damon smiled at his friend.

"Alex. You look wonderful. And your litter is perfect."   
Damon looked down at each of the tiny, wriggling bundles adoringly. Kriston came up behind him, sliding his hands forward and around, supporting Damon's stomach.   
"We'll have ours soon." the wolfe reminded him.   
"I know." Damon answered, tensing under his wolfe's touch. Kriston felt it and pulled back.   
"What's wrong, cub?"  
"Nothing, I just - may I talk to Alex?” Damon asked, then added, “Alone?"  
Kriston raised an eyebrow, but complied and moved away.  
"Sure." Kriston looked to Garron, who was removing himself delicately from the bed. "We'll be outside."

Once they were gone, Damon curled up next to Alex in Garron's vacated spot in the bed.  
"You don't look so good." Alex observed, cradling a puppy in his arms. Damon just groaned.   
"Does it hurt?" he asked, watching two of the pups wiggle.  
"Like hell." Alex grinned wryly. "But it's worth it." Alex picked up one of the babies. "They're so much more beautiful than I could have ever imagined." Damon smiled.   
"They're going to love you." Damon grinned at his friend. "Do they have names yet?"


	10. Ryce

**Spring, Year Three (4th Moon)**

"Kitten?" Garron called out as he entered the bedroom.   
"Da." Alex looked up at his mate, smiling.

A sleeping baby nestled in his lap, and a puppy was in his arms, nursing quietly. Garron smiled at the scene, sitting on the edge of the bed.  
"Are you very tired today, love?" Alex looked up, puzzled.   
"I'm alright, why?"  
"Because I've been doing some thinking."   
Alex grinned.  
"Always dangerous."   
Garron ruffled his hair and went on.  
"I've been thinking that we should expand our family a bit; we are the Alphas and it customary to have a large family. We've only had one lit, very late, and you haven't got a varon even, so all in all, I think we're setting a bad example."  
Alex wrinkled his nose in confusion.  
"What's a varon?"

Garron plopped down on the bed, stretching out to lie beside Alex, but careful not to land on the litter.  
"It's like a live-in attendant, love. Well, maybe more like a lady-in-waiting." Alex scowled at Garron, who corrected himself. "Liege-in-waiting." Alex nodded his approval.  
"Either way, they attend you from about 16 on until they're bonded. It's a great honor to be selected to be a varon for the alpha families; there's been a great stir about the fact that you haven't got even one, so perhaps we ought to get you two."  
Alex shrugged.  
"As long as it won't interfere with the litter."  
There was a pause.  
"Right. Well, about that, as well."  
Alex's snapped around to stare at his wolfe.  
"It won't interfere with the litter, will it?"  
Garron eyed his mate, trying to gauge the level of upset he was causing.  
"Perhaps you will have to divide your time, kitten, between the litter, your varons, and...other young ones."  
"I don't follow."  
"It's customary, and really quite necessary, now that you've birthed your first lit, to make movements to adopt. There are an extraordinarily high number of orphans in the Pack, you know, and as the Alpha family, we are in a position to care for more than just these five."

Alex laid the puppy in his arms down and replaced it with the infant in his lap, switching sides to nurse.  
"How many more?"  
Pause.  
"Garron?"  
"Six."  
Alex's eyebrows shot up.  
"Six? Six is a lot, Garron."  
"Just think about it. They'll vary in age, so the older ones will be able to help you with this litter after they're weaned, and the younger ones will help with the next. And if we get two varons at the same time, then that's more help, even."  
Alex could feel that familiar worry rising in his throat.

"Garron, this is a lot to take on."  
"I know it is, love, but - just think about it? There are a lot of wonderful wee ones out there who haven't got any home. No badi or appa to care for them, no warm family that is theirs and theirs alone...they only have the love of the Empire, and each other."  
With this, he met Alex's eyes, hoping to strike a chord within his mate. Alex looked away.  
"I don't know if I can do this, Garron."  
"You can."  
"I don't think I can."  
Garron nuzzled his side.  
"You will be wonderful."  
Alex put down the infant and shook his head.  
"I can't, Garron, I can't do this. Ask Ethan, or Damon or Nikolai, but not me. Please not me."  
Garron sat up. Alex was shaking.  
"Why not, love?"  
"Because, Garron."  
"Because what?"  
"Because I'll mess it up! Because I don't know how to care for anything! I don't even know how to care for me."  
Alex wrapped himself in the robe he was wearing and Garron got up onto his knees to look him in the face. Alex turned away.  
"Look at me, kitten."  
Alex didn't move.  
"Look at me, Alexei."

Now it was a command, and so he was compelled to glance in Garron's direction. Garron took his chin in hand and turned his mate's face toward his own.  
"You. Will. Be. Wonderful. You don't know it yet, but your heart is full of more love than any other, human or wolfe, that I have ever known. It is the first thing I noticed about you and the first reason that I loved you."  
Alex actually blinked back tears for a moment.  
"So believe me, Alexei, when I say that you will be a wonderful parent, as long as you are just being you. And I will always be by your side."  
Garron smiled, kissed his nose, and released him.  
"So now, if you think you can bear to be apart from these five for a few moments, then maybe we could go and meet your future adopted sons."

* * *

Kaz woke up hours before the sun rose, too anxious to sleep any longer. Today was the day - potentially the most significant day of his life: the day of he and Mika's bonding. He'd spent last night at the goddess altar under the full moon, performing his ablutions and laying out offerings to beg success for his wolfe and fertility for himself. This morning would be dedicated to performing the rituals of human religion, and so he was expected up an hour before sunrise to arrive at the temple.

Kaz smiled to himself and stretched in his bed, turning to the window. Mika, he guessed, was busy cutting his share of meat from the hunt. Now that he would have family to provide for, Garron would have separated him from the other unbonded males and allowed him to select his share. The rest of the males would eat what was evenly divided when it was served at common meals. Mika wouldn't see him until sunset, when they met at temple for one last blessing before the ceremony. Kaz missed him already, and he could feel the nervousness and desire gathering into a solid knot in the pit of his stomach.

Kaz had been an Empire-born and Academy educated beta; he'd lived his entire life in the Pack, and knew no other way than this. He'd been encouraged to plan his bonding since he was a child, and had been taught the Beta code before he could write his own name. He had always been told that the greatest service a human could give to the Empire was to bear for his wolfe and raise a family in the Wolfish way; today, he felt like he was finally able to begin to fulfill that ideal.

He was anxious about the ceremony - trying to remember what to say and when - but couldn't wait to go home with Mika. Tonight, he suddenly realized, would be their first night together as a mated pair. He'd never truly be alone again. The thought was both comforting and terrifying. Today would also be his last day as Ethan's varon. Who would he have now for advice and comforting and answers to problems and love? Ethan and Jonul would go on and get other varons and he might get forgotten. Ethan and Jonul had each assured him that that would not happen, but fear is an irrational beast and Kaz could feel himself getting anxious again.

He closed his eyes and thought of Mika. His smile, the sparkle in his eyes when he was excited to tell Kaz a new joke or show him a new trick he'd learned...the perfect way his hands fit every part of Kaz's body, the rough burr of his voice when he spoke Russian in his own wolfish way. Kaz let one hand slide down his stomach as he imagine Mika there with him, stroking the smooth skin of his thighs, pressing close to him. His cock was at half-mast, and Kaz took himself in hand, fist closing firmly around the base then drawing upwards, dragging the sensation with it towards the tip. He bit lightly down on his tongue, savoring each sensation, each pull and draw; all the time, imagining Mika was there with him. Gingerly, he slipped one finger into the slickness that was gathered around his entrance. He'd been changed since age 15, but unlike some of the others, he had never really experimented with himself or other betas. Now he was worried that might work to his disadvantage. He slipped one finger in to the knuckle, still keeping a steady rhythm on his cock. He was rock hard now, straining to control himself, coming closer and closer to that irreversible peaking...he began to piston his finger in and out of his passage, using gentle thrusts that contrasted with the rough pull on his erection. In his head, he heard Mika's voice telling him how much he desired him, and suddenly his orgasm was hitting him like waves of fire.

He lay basking in the buzz for a long while, checking the clock. It was still a little more than an hour till sunrise. Deciding he needed something constructive to do until it was time to go to temple, he decided to get up and bathe. He rinsed clean in the showers and soaked himself before going into the sauna to purify for the day ahead. The air was heavy with the smells of mint and sage, and Kaz felt calm and clear when he left the bathing rooms. He looked once more out at the view of the pine trees from this pretty room in Ethan's quarters, then went to dress with shaking hands.

* * *

In the temple, he chased Mika's scent (the wolfe must have come in after the hunt but left before the sunrise) and it momentarily made him miss his bondmate more than ever. Ethan arrived at nine to retrieve Kaz and take him to the infirmary for his pre-bonding checkup, as well as the most embarrassing speech Kaz had ever received about avoiding sexual overexertion in newly bonded mates. In the hallway, Mika's scent lingered and Kaz was beginning to think he was being teased.

By four, he had been through two purification rituals, been bathed, oiled, and massaged, and had painted his eyes and hands with kohanna. At six, he went with Ethan and Jonul to the temple, where he and Mika would garner one last blessing before the celebration and nighttime ceremony. His robes, which were gold and a deep red, were long and he had to keep picking them up as he walked. Birds were calling in the dale that led to the forest. He found it impossible to focus on the wedding. The kohanna around his eyes was making the skin feel tight. The rope bracelets felt soft around his wrist. Mika would be there.

At the doorway, Ethan kissed him and left. Kaz watched him disappear down the walk for a moment before turning to the open doorway. The temple was dark beyond, but a flickering light from the candles that would be set around the altar directed his path. Left foot, right foot, pick up your robes. He couldn't think about the wedding, couldn't think about the bonding, about the fact that he was about to, without audience or aid, offer himself in a permanent bond to someone else. Not just someone. His mate. Mika. He calmed his breathing, tamped down on the fear. If Mika was there, everything would be fine. Mika would never let him get hurt, so as long as Mika was with him, there was nothing to be afraid of. He could be brave.

* * *

The bonding ceremony is private and almost silent. Inside, in the holy black of the empty temple, the priest would be waiting. The moment of bonding, wolfes say, is sacred, unique to each pair, and deeply intimate. The priest would instruct them, but the bonding would be all their own. Afterwards, he would examine them and officially recognize the declaration of a completed bond.

Kaz steps into the temple, takes small steps towards altar, and for a moment, his heart skips a beat because he does not see Mika, but there he is - his wolfe is bare-chested, painted in kohanna, kneeling in the dark and hidden by the shadows of the altar. Kaz finishes his walk, kneels by his side. The priest whispers to them - seven words, and then he is gone, the candles flickering out with him. Kaz and Mika are left alone. The temple goes black.

* * *

The grass was damp and cool beneath his feet as he clasped Mika's hand, his mate leading the way across the soggy field, taking care not to walk so fast that Kaz couldn't keep up, mired down with longer robes as he was. They reached the stone path and Kaz tripped again, making them both laugh, the smiles impossible to stop from spreading across their faces. The priest had told them to keep silence until they reached the Great Hall, but this was too high a demand, and barely a hundred yards from the temple, Mika laughed and mouthed I love you. Kaz tripped a fourth time on the stone path and so Mikal just picked him up and carried him the rest of the way into the Great Hall, unknowingly mimicking human convention.

They heard the noise coming from the Hall, where most of BlackForest was gathered, either to celebrate or commiserate, dependent upon the outcome of the blessing. Both First Alphas were in attendance, and when the pair entered, Kaz still held close in Mika's arms, both inclined their heads to him. Mika, honored, did the same before returning his attention to his mate.  
"I love you." he whispered, breathless, as the crowd took notice of their arrival and turned to envelop them. A cheer went up. Mika squeezed Kaz's hand.  
"Is this OK?"  
Kaz turned to Mika, squeezed his hand back, tight.  
"This is perfect."

* * *

Kaz, Ethan decided, was the most shameless bride he'd ever seen. He'd caught him twice in the midst of disappearing to the gardens - in the middle of his own party! - once with Mika, and once without, and he suspected he'd missed a time or two because he didn't really remember Kaz's kohanna being smudged in that particular way. Kaz, always on his best behavior, had also been seen groping his new mate beneath the table by First Alpha Wolfe Garron, which had mortified Mikal but apparently only amused the Alpha.

Garron had, in fact, always found Kaz rather charming, cheeky though he was. Besides, the pair had just been mated - let them fuck on the tables, for all he cared. He certainly would have wanted to, and once the children had been sent home, in the later hours, he himself planned on doing so. That thought in mind, he went to go seek out his own mate, who had disappeared off to one of the patios to interview potential varons, per Garron's instruct. He'd been through twenty already last time Garron had checked, and there were near eighty more to go.

"Take a break, darling."   
Garron's voice startled him out of his focus, reading over the pre-interview questionnaire of one of the potentials.  
"What? No, I've got so much more to do." Alex looked a bit stressed, little lines forming around his eyes, and so Garron stroked his head.  
"You haven't even eaten yet. Others are on their thirds meals."   
Alex exhaled.  
"I'll eat when I get to 70."  
"What number are you on now?"  
"Fifty-five."  
"You'll eat now."  
Alex folded his arms over his chest, wrinkling the paper in his hand. Garron rolled his eyes.  
"You have to feed the pups. You can't unless you eat."  
Alex's eyes suddenly got wide.

"The lit! Where's Damon?? Is he managing alright with them? Jas, I haven't seen them in hours." he was on his feet and off before Garron had time to do anything other than open his mouth to answer. Realizing that his intended audience had disappeared, the potential varon sitting now in front of only Garron looked crushed.   
Garron frowned a little at him.  
"You there.” he said, sternly, by way of getting the young human's attention. “It's alright."   
The varon looked up at him, tears welling. Garron shifted uncomfortably. "He'll be back."  
The varon looked devastated.  
"He'll forget me by then."  
"No, no, he's still got your sheet."  
The varon's lip began to tremble.  
"It's not fair."

Oh God. Garron sensed what was coming next. This is exactly why Alex was interviewing, not him.

"No, I know.” he said hastily. “But it's OK, though. First Alpha Mate Alex will be right back. Don't you worry." he reached out and patted the young man's head. The varon burst immediately into tears.  
"Oh, no, no, no, please don't do that." Garron peered around anxiously. This could look bad. "It's fine. Honestly. First Alpha Mate Alexei will be back momentarily, and he was just telling me that he thinks you're absolutely tops for the job. You've got the number one place, in fact."  
The varon wiped his eyes.  
"Really, Alpha? I'm in first place?"  
The kid sounded disbelieving. Garron paused, thinking long and hard about what he was about to do.  
"...yes."  
The varon's face brightened considerably. His Alpha would never lie to him.  
"So that means...I might have one of the spots?"  
Garron paused another moment, but he was in too deep now - there was no going back.  
"...probably."  
The varon's face fell.  
"I mean, Alexei still has to look things over, but I'm sure - I'm sure he'll get back to you."  
the kid sniffled again.  
"It's ok, Alpha First Wolfe Garron. I understand. Thank you for your kindness, though - it was much appreciated."

The varon stood to leave, and as he did, he brushed past another applicant. The second applicant looked, crestfallen, at Garron.   
"So I suppose we should all go home for the night, then?"  
Garron looked apologetic.  
"Listen, I think - "   
Just then, the boy brushed his hair back from his eyes, and Garron caught a glimpse of something on his wrist. Without thinking, he lunged forward and grasped the boy's forearm in one large hand. The young man jumped, startled, but didn't resist, although he looked away as Garron pulled back his sleeve to reveal the mark. Garron stared at it.  
"I remember you."  
Garron took his other wrist, did the same.  
"I remember your mother."

On the underside of the boy's forearm, two thick X's were burned into his skin, the keloided scars a permanent white against sun-brown skin. The boy was panting, sucking in harsh breaths now.

"I'm not who you think I am."  
Garron met his eyes; they were white with fear.  
"I'm not. I'm not."

* * *

They had been hunting that night. It was bitter cold, middle of the second winter, and the snow was thick. Then they'd caught it - the scent of a human. They had all stood stock still in the middle of the forest because the scent was something many of them had never sensed before - a born female. Garron took off first in the direction. The scent was rich with the soiling smells of fear, sweat, and pain that he had come to associate with a desperate situation.

It was desperate at best. His paws pounded the earth, tearing up snow in little white whiffs as he ran over it. He skidded to a halt, slid past her (she was lying prone), and shifted instantaneously and ran over. There was another scent then, one that had been masked as he'd been too preoccupied with hers before. A child, not more than eight, knelt beside her, knees bare and feet only sandaled in the snow. He was trying vainly, using all his strength to turn her over. He wasn't crying. Garron never forgot that he wasn't crying. His rising alpha nature took over then and he set the boy to the side, turned her body, cradled her head. Checked her pulse even as the rest of the hunting pack caught up, all grey and black and brown and red and silver wolfes skidding kamikaze paths through the snow, some almost falling, some almost colliding with her. They shifted and someone picked up the boy (who, even now, faced with strange creatures in a dark forest, was dry-eyed), and cradled him to their chest, bodily warming him with muscles hot from the run.

Garron was working her over, trying to open her eyes. She lifted one hand, stopped him.  
"Please." her voice was weak, very faint. Were he not a wolfe, Garron doubted he would have heard at all. Being as he was, he took in every word. She opened her eyes, only halfway, and they were mostly already gone. Garron felt his stomach sink. She met his gaze. "Let Jara live."

Garron shook his head, not understanding, but then he felt the rush like a summer wind and knew that she was gone. In another soldier's arms, the boy named Jara was crying.

They took him home that night, and Jara, very capable and very calm for a child of barely eight who had just lost his mother, told them everything. How they had been captives of a human clan, taken from warm beds in their own clan late one night when he was six. How they had lived for two years with these people, who fed them well and gave them warm baths and toys and brushed his mother's hair, but never spoke to them. How his mother was frightened. How she tried to escape, but was always under guard. How one night when the lazy guard fell asleep, she snuck into a meeting - a nighttime gathering and heard them say that they must return the last man born of woman to the earth from which he came. She heard them say that her son must be a sacrifice. His mother had come for him and tried again to run. They stopped her and this time, came with hot irons and marked them both - angry red X's across the river of life in their wrists. He had screamed because his arms burned so badly. His mother fought and they broke her wrist. She waited until the next night and killed three men one-handed; they had forgotten that she'd seen where they hid the iron pokers. She took her son's hand. Then they ran.

Then they were here, Jara said, and the middle is missing. I do not remember where we were. I do not know how to return. I only know that my mother is gone and my arms still hurt. Garron was not Alpha yet at that time, but in his heart, he knew that he would be. And under his rule, this would not happen again. He held the boy and rubbed his scars with ointment until the pain disappeared and he fell asleep.

* * *

"I'm not him." the boy's voice wavered.   
Garron shook his head.  
"You are."  
The tears were there again, teetering on the edge of escape.  
"I can't be him." Jara said, "Because I can't remember who I am."

When Jara had received the Therapy to remove these memories from his mind, it had been in the early days. The methods were weak and Garron knew anyway that these thoughts, these images were burned too deeply. The boy could never forget. Garron had lost track of him after that - he'd gone on about his office work and hadn't had the authority or ability to chase down an intaken orphan. The last time he'd seen Jara was that night.

"I remember." Garron said, and for a moment, the boy looked as if he might believe him. "You are Jara."  
"My name is Ryce."  
Garron shook his head and tried again.  
"Jara."  
"Ryce! I am Ryce! They call me Ryce at the Academy and Ryce in my schoolhome. My name is Ryce Alesander Saracen, and I am not him!" the boy tried to yank his arm away, but Garron held fast. Slowly, he dragged one thumb over the scar on the wrist he still held.

"I was there the night they found you, young one. I held her head." he waited a moment for this to sink in. The only evidence was an increase in trembling. "Your mother," he said, pressing gently on the center of the X, "Named you Jara."  
Then it was over, and Jara was in his arms again as he hadn't been in ten years and he was crying out every memory he'd tried his damndest to pretend to forget.

Alex returned to a scene very different than the one he'd left. Garron's eyes, both heavy and happy at the same time, looked out at him from over the varon hopeful's head, which was tight to his shoulder.  
"Alexei," he said, swallowing thickly against his own tears, "My Love. This is your varon."


	11. Dobro pozhalovat!

**Summer, Year Three (6th Moon)**

"And so when is the young one going to be mated?"  
Jara and Alex, eager for some time outdoors, had gone out with a group to help with the harvest gathering in the small barley fields close to the buildings of the compound. Alex had specifically asked for the barley fields, although he'd looked so serious at the request that Jara hadn't had the nerve to ask him why. They had been out since the gray of early morning, rotating teams on different pathways through the grain, and so Alex had been stuck for 45 minutes working next to absolutely the most talkative human he'd ever met in his life.

The man was a bit older than Alex - maybe close to forty-five, and had talked incessantly about his lits (he'd had three and they were all absolutely perfect), Alex's lit (he should remember to double their calcium after 6 months because wolfish cubs needed strong bones and most first time badis don't remember to do that and the doctors really ought to give better advice), Alex's age (32 was so very late to bear a first lit; surely Alex was concerned about his children's health, wasn't he?), the man's mate (the most forgiving and kind and well accomplished wolfish archer to ever enter BlackForest, although he came from SweetWater, where the winters were much milder and perhaps they should go back because all this cold air gives him a cough), Alex's mate (What a nice alpha Garron was, but had he been thinking about expanding BlackForest lately, because it really was going to get quite cramped with all the new lits coming in and certainly Garron should remember to think about that), barley (absolutely the best grain in the world for quick growth and harvest, even if it does require good and shallow soil), and anything else he could dream up until Alex was absolutely positively sure that if he heard another fucking thing about another fucking thing he was going to empty his basket over the man's head, storm off to find Garron and demand that he and his stupid accomplished little archer husband got a one way transfer out of BlackForest immediately.

Luckily, Jara reappeared moments before the breaking point, carrying a basket of grain on his hip. The older human took interest in him immediately.  
"And is this him - your varon?"  
Alex shot Jara a look of sympathy.  
"Yes...this is Jara."

The older human was smiling cheerily at Jara now, who was doing his best to escape the attention, mostly by stepping sideways to duck behind Alex. Alex calmly stepped farther away.  
"Jara! What a name! Hmph. Well, I suppose human names have gone out of fashion, then."  
Jara stared blankly at the man.  
"A bit quiet, isn't he?"  
Alex, who was now focusing his full entity on harvesting, shrugged.  
"Well, he'll have to change that if you plan to have him mated soon."

The air changed immediately. Jara dropped his shoulders, an act Alex had come to recognize as a signal of his discomfort. He also turned four bright shades of pink, the color coming out brightly through his olive tone.  
"Jara is fine as he is for right now. He doesn't need to be mated."  
The human looked confused, near shocked.  
"You don't intend to have your varon bonded?" he cocked his head. "But why not? He'll be the only one his age going without - it will be terrible for him, all his friends going on to families and he still in a youth's position. Oh, you _are_ going to have him mated, aren't you? That's the responsibility of the varon family, you know. Or can he not be mated?" the human peered over at Jara, who was desperately wishing to become invisible or at the least, have a hysterical episode and pass out in the grain. "He seems winsome enough. And he's of your name, so there's no problem there - what's wrong with him, then? Is he not viable?"  
Alex stood up just in time to catch the look of pure mortification fleeting across Jara's face.   
"Jara," he snapped, annoyance overcoming him, "is perfect as he is." his voice came as close to a growl as a human's could, and the older man seemed to finally take the hint.

Just then, the bells rang for the afternoon meal, and the man quickly gathered his basket and hat and went off in a huff.  
Alex turned to Jara.  
"Don't mind him, Jar - you're beautiful and perfect and when your time comes, any wolfe would be lucky to mate you."  
Jara just shrugged and looked uncomfortable, as he was wont to do, and Alex turned to pick up his own basket. Timidly, the youth spoke.  
"When will my time come, First Alpha Mate?"  
Alex, unused to Jara addressing him so formally, wrinkled his brow. A few other betas brushed past them on their way indoors, each nodding politely to Alex.  
"Whenever you are ready, Jara."  
Jara twisted his fingers together.  
"Alpha - "  
"Maybe," Alex proposed as another group nodded to him as they moved past. "We could finish this conversation indoors, after the meal?"  
Jara nodded obediently and silently placed his basket on his head.

Wondering what he'd missed, Alex watched his varon's back for a moment as he made his way through the grain, then balanced his own basket with the other, and was gone.

* * *

"I guess no one ever really did explain to you how things work here."   
Garron spooned more soup into his mouth, setting down the utensil to break apart bread with two fingers.  
"No - no one did, and I'll feel horrible if I fail at having a varon just because someone forgot to get me a copy of the manual."  
"No no, it won't be anything like that." Garron assured him. "You can't fail at having a varon - not yet, at least. Jara's just worried, I'm sure. He's already gained his age and you haven't even presented him with any prospects. I'm sure that's hard for him."

Frustrated, Alex pushed his plate away.  
"This is what I mean! Gained his age? What does that mean? No one's ever told me these things." he sighed and Garron calmly swallowed his bread before continuing.  
"Most varons are bonded by about 21, birthing by 25 or so. The luckier ones have a mate picked out already by about 19 - that's when they get presented - introduced formally to society as viable and ready for bonding. How old is Jara again?"  
"Nineteen this month."  
Garron made a face.  
"We might want to do it quickly, then, being the Alpha family and all..."  
"What?"  
"Well, it doesn't look good. If we wait too long, it could be a bit...unseemly." Garron wrinkled his nose. "Not an example, maybe, that we would want to present."

Alex sighed and put his head in his hands.  
"I can't do this Alpha thing - I barely know what I'm doing as a regular Wolfish citizen, let alone a leader of the people." Alex shook his head. "You've got the wrong mate, Gar."  
The wolfe smiled gently at his mate.  
"Alexei, don't say that. I chose well. I always choose well, and I chose you. I love you, and you are doing a wonderful job. And things will get easier."  
Alex groaned.  
"I've just whelped a litter of puppies. My wolfe is pressuring me to adopt yet another litter - of children, this time - and now my varon, who I love, but is more trouble than all the rest put together, is in desperate need of a husband in six months or less. Nothing about this seems like it's getting any easier."  
Garron laughed.  
"Well, trust me, kitten, once you get the hang of it, things will be easy. Until the litter gets old enough to walk, that is."  
Alex laughed, but then sobered.

"But seriously - how am I supposed to pick a mate for Jara, Garron? I feel like I barely know him. And I feel like I haven't taught him anything these past few months. He's only been tagging along while I try to live my life."  
Garron got up from his chair and came around the table to his mate's side.  
"The others will help you find his mate, and he'll learn by osmosis; don't worry. Just let him watch you - when you are alone, when you are with me - and it will help him learn how a beta should behave."  
"So you think," Alex broke in, smiling slyly, "that I am a good example of how a beta should behave?"  
Garron looked amused, but stymied. Then, making a decision, he settled on an answer.  
"Kitten, you are perfect, in every way, and I am sure you will teach Jara well."  
Alex smiled at his mate's non-answer.  
"Fair enough. At least, I'll try."

* * *

After they ate, Alex's nurses brought the litter round for nursing and Damon and another beta, Ethan, came over to idle with him as he did so. Jara, who was still in school because of his culinary training, had lessons until the afternoon meal, and so Alex would have no access to him 'til then. By two, Damon had begun complaining that the lit was viciously kicking him, and so was guided by one of Alex's nurses to an empty bedroom to rest.

Ethan and Alex took up seats by the windows in the sitting room, one large sheet of paper between them, on which Ethan was both sketching and writing.   
"So do you want to get started on seeking out a mate for Jara?"  
Alex shrugged.  
"This seems...forced. Shouldn't he just find one on his own? Some wolfe he likes and they fall in love?"  
Ethan looked evenly at Alex.  
"I don't know that he's really in a position to do that. I don't even know if you would want him to do that. There a number of wolfes in this compound just dying for a place in the Alpha line. Youth can muddle the mind, and I'm not entirely sure that Jara knows well enough which males to avoid. The results could be disastrous. He could ruin both himself and you and Garron in the process."  
Alex frowned, but accepted this.  
"I suppose."  
Ethan watched his reaction.  
"Perhaps we could explore some courting options..."  
Alex raised both eyebrows in shock.  
"Options? There are options? The only wolfish courting option I know is the kind where you get thrown over the back of a horse, break out of quarantine and go on the lam, then six months later you're waking up in the infirmary after your stolen vehicle failed 100 miles from Wolfe territory." he fixed an annoyed look towards he and Garron's bedroom. "I wasn't aware there were options much different than that."  
Ethan laughed outright and Alex eased into a wry smile.  
"Well, I guess we'll start at the beginning, then." Ethan laughed.

Just then, Damon appeared in the doorway, seemingly wandering directionlessly through the room. Alex looked up at his approach.  
"Hey, Day. Feeling better? Come join us."  
Reaching over, he pulled another chair close to the table and looked back up at Damon. It was then that he noticed the peculiar look on Day's face, and the odd way he was holding his hand up in front of him.  
"Day?"  
To his right, Ethan was watching closely, his expression also changing.  
"Alex, I think we should call Kriston." his voice was very shaky, and upon closer examination, Alex noticed that his hands, and also pants, were wet.  
"Damon! What's wrong, what's going on?!"  
Ethan was already on his feet, going to the call systems to ask for Kriston.  
"I think my litter is coming...now."  
"Now?!"  
"Right fucking now."

* * *

Damon was splayed on a birthing table in the nursery section of the infirmary, with his mate rushing around him, trying to get him prepped and comfortable. Two nurses stood off to the side, watching vigilantly.

"Ris, you promised me!"  
"Pup, you can do this."  
"No, I can't!"  
"Alex did it."  
"'I'm not fucking Alex!" Damon took another series of deep breaths. Kriston squeezed his hand.  
"Come on, puppy, you'll be alright."  
"No, I won't." Damon whined, took two deep breaths.  
"Just breathe." Kriston directed him.  
"I am breathing!" he snapped, then squeezed his eyes shut. "Kriston?" Damon's voice was teary. "I'm scared."  
Kriston swallowed and tightened his grip on his mate's hand.   
"I know, love. But you'll be alright. You never let scared stop you before." he cast a desperate glance around the room. "How do you want to do this?"  
"What?!"  
"Do you want to stand?"   
"What? Kriston, I don't know! I've never done this before!" Damon bit his lip, squeezing his eyes closed, and reached out for his mate. "Just do something now!" Kriston nodded and pushed his sleeves up. He helped Damon to move and slid him into a birthing position, knees up and legs open on the angled table.   
Another contraction struck and Day squeezed his eyes closed.  
"Call Alex, OK? And Garron."   
Kriston nodded and a nurse nearby dashed off to follow his orders. Gently, Kriston began to massage his mate's stomach as Damon cried out with another contraction.  
"Hey, love. It's almost time to work now, OK? This won't take long, but you have to stay with me through it, alright?"  
Damon nodded, focused on his mate's face. Seconds later, another contraction, this time stronger, and Damon squeezed tight on his mate's wrist.  
"Kriston!"  
"I'm here, puppy." Kriston kissed his mate's furrowed brow, squeezed his hand, and settled himself between his spread legs.  
"Are you ready?"

* * *

By the time Alex arrived, one puppy was already out and being bathed gently by the nurses standing to the side, and the second was in the midst of his entry into the world. Damon reached out for him immediately when he arrived.

"Sorry I took so long, Day, but I'm here now."   
Damon keened softly.  
"Just breathe, darling. Two are done already, three will be here soon. Alex moved to sit behind his friend, who was lying back on the sloped birthing table, straddling Damon and putting both of his hands into Day's. Garron, who wore a mask and had his hands dipped in blue, stood by Kriston, who still knelt between his mate's legs, sweating profusely.  
"Third one, puppy. Push for me, darling. We're almost through."

The fourth came more easily than the first three, and Damon breathed a sigh of relief, but the fifth puppy was twisted sideways and Kriston struggled to correct him. The nurses stepped in to help, but by late afternoon, he still hadn't been born yet and Damon had faded almost out of consciousness.

"Figure something out!" Kriston snapped at an anonymous nurse.   
Garron bit away his smirk, then stepped forward to lay one hand on his friend's shoulder.  
"My First, they are working and your mate will be fine. This is a common problem, particularly with first births, and I assure you they are doing everything they can to ease your mate's discomfort."  
Kriston whined and flicked an ear, looking over Garron's shoulder. Across the room, Alex was offering Damon pieces of ice with sugar.  
"He's hurt. My mate is hurt."  
Garron gave him a quick shake of the shoulder.  
"He's only feeling fatigue, no pain now - they've given him something for that. And his life is in no danger. He will be fine. But your emotions will affect him, so if you cannot control yourself, wolfe, then you should leave. Your upset will only make this harder on him."  
Garron waited, studying Kriston's face. "If you can manage it, go to him, soothe him, help him, and we can all be in our beds by the night meal. Can you?"  
Kriston looked at his alpha, took a few deep breaths to retain his control, and strode purposefully across the room to his mate.  
The nurses glanced up with some trepidation as he approached, but Kriston passed without comment and took up Alex's old position behind his birthing mate.

The doctors had only predicted five pups for Damon, but after the struggling fifth pup was out, Kriston swore he still heard a heartbeat. Sure enough, Damon remained in labor, and, three minutes later, the last and smallest of the litter was out. Damon lifted his head, checked on his entire lit, expressed the afterbirth, and was unconscious immediately, his head falling back onto Kriston's shoulder. The nurses checked him over, verified that he was, on the whole, without injury, and left Kriston to clean his mate. Garron and Alex helped to set the infants into beds lining the sides of Damon's bed before excusing themselves to leave the new family alone.

Kriston kissed his now-sleeping mate's forehead, cradling one of their children in his arms.  
"Love you, puppy. More than life."

* * *

It had been four days since Damon had whelped, and Alex had agreed to go today to meet the children whom Garron had selected for their adoption.  
When he stumbled out of the bathing rooms, still damp from his morning wash, Garron was already dressed, sitting in the entranceway, tail thumping noisily (and impatiently) on the fabric of his seat.  
"Ready?!"  
Alex gave him an odd look and wandered back into the bedroom to towel his hair down and dress.  
When he reemerged, Garron seemed on the edge of a nervous episode, pacing the room by the door, casting occasional glares at Alex for taking so long. Somewhat enjoying this game, Alex took his time checking on the litter and nurses before once more rejoining his mate in the hall.  
"Let's go."

~:~

In the large receiving room attached to the Children's Halls, three boys were gathered. They ranged in ages from five or so to twelve, and sat together, speaking sporadically, on the round sofa in the middle of the room. The youngest seemed engrossed in something he held in his hands. Alex watched them through the glass for a few moments.

"They're not my litter. They're not my children." he said, stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest. Garron sighed.  
"Yes, they are. Come on now, they've been waiting for you. You can't just leave them in there alone. They're going to think that you don't want them." Alex shook his head.  
"I don't think this is going to work." He put emphasis on the middle word. Garron sighed again.  
"Well, I know it will."  
Alex exhaled heavily and Garron stroked his face.  
"I'm sorry, darling. But they are children, and even if they're not ours by blood, they're ours by heart. They need someone to take care of them. They need us. Most of all, they need you. Please, will you just go in and say hello?" Alex looked at his wolfe, whose face had softened into one of pleading compassion. Alex gritted his teeth.  
"Fine." Garron visibly relaxed. "But only for them, you understand? Not for you." Garron nodded.   
"Whatever, just let's go. They're terrified enough as it is."

As they entered the room, all three boys jumped to their feet. The littlest hid what he'd been holding, piquing Alex's curiosity. He bent over, hands on his knees, and leaned into the little one's face. The boy had big, almost-black eyes, café-au-lait skin a bit lighter than Damon's, and unruly, tightly curled hair that was shiny black. His nose was slightly upturned, giving him an impish look, and the t-shirt he wore was several sizes too large for him.

"What's your name?" Alex asked, gently. The boy hesitated before answering.   
"Malik." he whispered, shying away from Alex.   
"That's a good name." Alex told him. "What've you got behind your back there, Malik?" Malik's eyes got bigger, and he backed away a little more, bumping into the sofa behind him.   
"Neechego."  
At hearing the boy speak Russian, Alex smiled.  
"Proscba?"   
"Show him, Mali." This from the oldest of the three. Gently, he prodded his small companion forward.  
"Ya ne ckhochu." Alex's knees were beginning to ache, so he lowered himself down to the floor so that he could continue to be at eye-level with the boy.   
"Why not?" The boy looked down at his feet.  
"It's a present, but you might not like."  
"Just show him, Mali, he'll like it." Malik looked trustingly up at the oldest boy, then back to Alex.  
"'mK." Tentatively, he offered Alex his hand, in which was clasped a bunch of dandelions. Alex smiled and took the dandelions from Malik.   
"Spasibo." The boy smiled, delighted with Alex's appreciation of his gift, and threw himself into his adopted badi's arms. Over the boy's head, Alex glared at Garron.  
"Alright." he mouthed so that only Garron could see, "You got me."

~:~

After a few more introductions, Alex suggested that they all head back to their wing to get moved in. Garron looked sheepish for a moment, then admitted that he'd already had their things moved in to the empty rooms adjacent to the right side of their quarters that morning, when the kids had arrived. This earned him another glare from Alex, at which point he announced that he had to leave.

"Where're you going?" Alex queried, suspicious of his mate.  
"We're missing the other three." He said, pulling Alex in for a hug, being careful not to squash Malik, who had gotten a ride in his Badi's arms. "Cubs, those - they're back down in the nursery, I'll bring them up this way so you can meet them." Garron laid a kiss on Alex's forehead before disappearing off down the hallway. Alex turned back to the kids.   
"Well, I suppose we ought to get you guys fed, huh?"

* * *

Inside their rooms, Malik began to show signs of fatigue, so Alex called to have lunch brought up, then drew the little one a bath. He left the door to the bathroom open as he undressed the boy and put him in the water, having learned quickly that neither of the others took well to having Malik out of their sight, even for a second. The two older ones, who had introduced themselves as Maxim and Palermo, were stretched out on the large sofa/bed combination in the center of the commons area.

They'd decided on cartoons and were playing them quietly, looking up every few moments to be sure that Malik was OK. Palermo, in fact, looked up every two minutes or so, blowing strands of curly sun-blonde hair back from coal-black eyes. The three looked so different between them, Alex thought idly. Sam looked nothing like Malik, who had luminescent brown skin and dark eyes and hair, and he also looked nothing like Max, who had Alex's same black hair, green eyes, and scrutinizing stare. The only resemblance the three boys shared was in their noses, all of which had a snobbishly turned-up shape to them.

Alex was startled back out of his thoughts by a glob of soap that hit him on the side of the head, sent sailing by the previously angelic-looking boy in front of him. He turned his attention to Malik, who sat looking innocent in the tub, suppressing giggles. Alex went for his stomach immediately, tickling and making the boy squeal. Max appeared in the doorway immediately, and Alex grinned up at him.

"Don't worry, I'm not hurting him."   
Max looked sheepish.   
"I was just looking around."   
Alex raised an eyebrow.  
"Sure, of course."   
There was a pause as Malik busied himself dunking his head into the water.  
"I can dry him, if you like." Max offered and Alex shrugged noncommittally.  
"Sure. If you want."

The older human got easily to his feet and made his way out of the bathroom, past the protective youngster. In the commons, he stretched out on the bed/sofa next to Mo, who only glanced briefly away from the television. Alex decided not to disturb him, and followed his gaze up to the screen. Struck by the absurdity of the images on the screen, he began to laugh hysterically, and Mo looked over at him, concerned.

"Are you alright, Badi?" he ventured, not wanting to seem impertinent or rude.  
"Mmhmm." Alex calmed to a chuckle. "Mda, I'm fine." It astounded him how much things had changed in the past twenty years. He hadn't watched or seen a TV in a long time, and even before the Invasion, he'd never been a big fan, but the changes were still painfully obvious.

All shows not featuring wolves or considered to support the Wolfish way of life had been deemed 'detrimental' and removed. In their stead were now programs, some eagerly Wolfe-serving, some pandering, some educational, some serious shows and short films, and some featuring all manner of life currently inhabiting their planet. There were dramas, starring wolfes and their enticing human costars, sporting with Louts, even cooking shows with the Psires. Some shows that had been salvaged were rewritten, to allow for accordance with Wolvish beliefs, but Alex supposed that they hadn't considered rewrites efficient in the case of cartoons. The revisionists had simply drawn tails on half of the characters. Alex considered explaining all of this to Mo, but decided that it wouldn't fare well, and so just shrugged at him and settled down to watch some program about a heroic wolfe and his search for a human mate. Alex wondered how his litter was doing without him.

~:~

The four of them had just begun to doze off when the door opened for the four o'clock meal, and two servants breezed in, carrying trays of food, which they placed on the table next to the large picture window. Max wrapped his brother up in a robe that was sizes too big for him, and the four of them congregated at the table. After waiting patiently for Alex to begin eating, ("At Academy, they taught us that it's rude to eat before your elders.") the boys dug in and left their trays empty. After they'd eaten, Max put Malik back to bed for a nap, then, after checking to be sure that Sam and Mali were both asleep, stretched out himself over the bed he'd declared his and quickly followed suit. Alex was just about to join them when Garron's voice interrupted him.

"Let them sleep." Alex jumped, then relaxed into his wolfe's arms.   
"Garron." Garron turned Alex so that they were facing and pushed him against the wall next to the bedroom door.   
"Close the door." He growled against Alex's neck.   
"Garron..."  
"They won't know." Garron kissed Alex roughly, lifting his mate and leveraging him against the wall. He licked and bit his way down Alex's neck, leaving sweet red marks along the skin as he went.  
"Can't you wait?" Alex pleaded, grasping to pull the door closed.  
"No. Now." Garron nuzzled Alex's chin and neck. "Smell so good." A sudden tug at Garron's pants startled him.  
"Appa?" Malik's face was turned up, looking curiously at both of them.

Garron swore and dropped Alex back to the ground. Malik was still tugging at his pants leg, and so Garron turned his attention to the boy. He lifted him so that he was nose-level, holding him by the scruff of his neck in one hand.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Malik nodded as much as he could for being held up by his collar. "Well, why aren't you?"  
"You made noise, and I want'd t'say hello. Ba spent the whole day with us, but you didn't come, even for lunch." Malik's sentence trailed off into a yawn.  
"You shouldn't hold him like that." Alex pointed out from his position leaning against the wall. "He's a child, not a hunting trophy."  
"Right." Garron awkwardly shifted his grasp on the little one so that the boy nestled against his chest.   
"Appa?" Malik's voice came tiredly.  
"Mmmhmm?"  
"I'm sleepy." he managed, closing his eyes.  
"I know. Come on, let's get to nap, then." Garron carried Malik off to bed, and Alex watched from the doorway. Inside, the other two boys slept soundly on their beds, and Malik quickly joined his brothers. When Garron reappeared, Alex smirked at him.   
"Little calmer now, are we?" Garron glared for a moment, then laughed along with his beta.   
"I hope this doesn't become a habit of his." He managed between stifled laughter. Alex giggled.  
"C'mon, wolfe, let's go see the other three."

* * *

Alex and Garron spent the rest of the afternoon greeting their three newly adopted wolfe cubs. The trio had been placed into rooms directly adjacent to Garron and Alexei's own, on the south side, and when their parents arrived to meet them, they were heavily engaged in a game of Hunt.

After a brief scuffle, Garron managed to get them all on the bed, sitting quietly except for the drumming of fluffy tails on the comforter. Two pairs of curious eyes and one pair of surly ones stared up at their parents. Garron gestured to Alex and said, unceremoniously,  
"This is your badi." The eyes all shifted to Alex. "Show respect." Garron reminded them, and all three got hopped to their feet, bowing their heads to Alex. They then hopped immediately back onto the bed where Garron had put them.

"Hello." the oldest spoke and the others just looked eager.  
"Hi." Alex waved. The oldest's tail sped up.   
"Do we have littermates?" he asked eagerly. Alex looked confused, and turned to Garron.  
"These three," he said, gesturing to the cubs before them, "are brothers. The three in the other room," he gestured vaguely towards the door, "are their littermates. They are from the same birth group, but are not males and are unrelated."  
"Oh." Alexei turned back to the cubs. "Yes, then."  
"Can we see them?"  
"No!" Garron cut in, giving a glare to each of them in turn. Then, to Alex,   
"Sorry. They start early."   
Alex looked puzzled again.  
"In the hunt for a mate." Garron clarified, looking a little embarrassed.  
"Ah. Well," Alex held out his hands and approached the bed, "I think that may be a bit premature. Why don't you all tell me your names first?"  
"I'm Michael." this from the second cub on the bed, who hadn't spoken until now. "I'm the oldest." this surprised Alex, as he'd assumed that the most outspoken was the oldest.  
"Oh. How old are you, Michael?"   
"Near 15, Da." Alex nodded.  
"I'm Kaeden." this from the talker. "I'm 13." Alex nodded again, then looked down at the littlest one.  
"And you?"  
The young wolfe paused, looked at his Alpha, looked at his brothers, then turned to Alex. His dark eyes were cool, detached. He had the air of a man appraising what lay before him.  
"I am Victor."

Michael, the oldest, was an Earth-born male, dark haired and eyed. He was 14, close to beginning his training. Kaeden, the second oldest, was 13; born on Arem'mir but raised Earthside; he had silvery hair in Garron's vein but dark eyes and skin like his brother's. He was the friendliest of the bunch and Alex took to him immediately. The youngest, Victor, was quiet, even sulky (although Garron explained that this was just a side effect of a wolfe beginning to gain his age) and mostly ignored Alexei and twitched a thick brown tail that matched his dark hair and eyes.

Alex smiled amiably at them, and they all wagged back, although Victor realized what he was doing immediately and stopped. Garron frowned.  
"Tails still." he demanded.  
Alex looked at him, somewhat sadly.  
"Why can't they wag?"  
"Because dignified wolfes control their expressions." Garron gave another scolding glare. Alex felt fatigue creeping into the edges of his consciousness, just as Victor came out of his funk long enough to politely ask:   
"Da, is it time for dinner yet?"

* * *

Damon went for a walk outside, leaving the litter temporarily in the capable care of two nurses who liked nothing better than to play with the puppies all day, every day. Damon welcomed the reprieve - he loved his litter, but there were six of them, and they were a bit of a handful to manage all alone.

Alone. Even thinking of the word made him angry again, because he remembered why he was alone: Kriston was nowhere to be found.

It wasn't as if his wolfe had abandoned him. No, Kriston had been there for the birth, there when Damon awoke. He was there to take them home, and there for the first nursing, and there for three nights after; on the fourth night, the nurses had offered them a night off. They'd spent it on the riverside, where Kriston had built him a fire and caught him a large rabbit, explaining that it was Wolfish tradition for new parents to take off the fifth night after the litter. It gave them time to be alone, Kriston said. Time to remember that they were a pair.

On that night, Kriston had taught him how to play Hunt (not a very complex game), told him stories of his childhood on Arem'mir and his time traveling with his league. Damon had in turn taught Ris the fine art of how to make triple-decker sandwiches out of rabbit meat and flatbread, and told him the story of how his parents had first met. The last thing they'd talked about was Damon's adjustment to the ColdRiver Pack, and whether or not he had come to love the Wolfish life.   
Love, Day had said, was too strong a word for anything he felt now.

Kriston had looked somewhat broken at this, and so, intending to lighten the mood, Damon had changed the subject, playfully telling Kriston that he must've forgotten how to count, because tonight was most certainly their fourth night at home, not their fifth. Kriston responded that he did, in fact, know how to count because all wolfes (particular emphasis there to indicate 'unlike men') are literate, and that they would celebrate that night because tomorrow he would be gone, but couldn't say where. Damon had refused the rest of the meal.

~:~

At last count, Kriston had been gone six days. After three, it didn't make sense to be angry anymore, so Damon had begun to spend his time differently. His mornings, days and nights were filled with time for the litter, but the evenings, he discovered, were all his own. Suddenly feeling a pressing need for freedom, he had taken to watching the sun set down by the edges of the territory that he now called his home.

It had been hell, at first, to get permission to go this far out - every wolfe he'd spoken to had insisted that nothing short of an executive order from his mate would get him past six thousand yards, not even for a very very short walk. But after three days of begging and pleading that Kriston was gone and he was alone with the litter, and he just felt so caged, the guards had begun to give in.

So Damon would go out in the evenings, about an hour before sunset (always with a guard or two in tow), and he would walk until the sky got dark and the wind whistled to him that it was time to go home.

It was during one of these walks, on one of these evenings, shortly before sunset at the edges of the compound territory, that Damon had first encountered the markings. He wasn't sure at first - thought that perhaps he was just imagining things, seeing signs where none existed. Not wanting to seem obvious or draw attention, he'd begun wandering closer to the trees, checking them out, because he figured the markings could, after all, be just a strange formation of the bark.

After three days of the same sign, he determined that it was definitely not the bark. He walked home more quickly than he had in the days before.

* * *

Alexei was in the bathing rooms when Damon found him, stretched luxuriously out beneath one of the sunlit domes, making quiet strokes in the water beside him. Damon entered the room quietly, stepped away to undress, then let himself into the clear blue water.

Alex opened his eyes at the disturbance of the water surface and smiled at Damon.   
"Day. Hey. It's good to see you."  
Damon had been busy since he'd whelped the litter, and in truth, Alex had missed him. Blinking in the sunlight and the bright reflection of the water, Alex ran wet hands over his slick hair and sat up. Damon had a curious expression on his face, two parts excitement and one part unparalleled fear.  
"Alex," he said slowly, meeting his friend's eyes to be sure he had his attention,  
"I think my family has come for me."

Alex stared evenly at Damon.  
"Your family. Has come?"  
Damon nodded tightly, trying desperately to conceal his excitement, splashing the water around him with anxious hands.  
"Alex, they're here - humans are here! My family is here!"  
Alex stared at him for a moment longer before dropping his head back against the cool tile of the pool.  
"And exactly what are you telling me for?"  
Damon's face fell.

"Alex...this is a one-time opportunity. We can get out of here. I never expected them to come back into this region, not after my disappearance here, but they did! They came to get me, but I don't think they will come again. The marks I saw told me it's been three days since they arrived here. That makes today the fourth. They will not stay past five. If you ever want to get out of here, Alex, then now is the time."

Alex rested one hand on his still-slimming stomach, balanced the other on the rim of the pool.  
"You won't make it past the third marker."  
Damon bristled at this.  
"My family are brilliant escapists. If we go with them, then I assure you that we will all make it out of here."  
Alex lifted his head, looked Damon over.  
"Well, you go on without me."  
Damon gaped at his friend.  
"You're serious. You're really serious."  
Alex shrugged, looked away to to the gilded far walls.  
"I think, Damon, that at this point in my life here," he once again turned his head to lock eyes with his friend, "I have no intention of going anywhere."

Damon felt a whirpool of nausea beginning in his stomach.  
"Alexei-"  
"Damon, go." Alex wouldn't look at him. "Just go if you're going." Damon felt his eyes sting. Alex shook his head, then looked up and locked eyes with Damon. "Go."  
Damon stared at him a moment longer.  
"Alright." he took two steps backwards in the pool. "Alright. Stay if you want, but I'm getting the hell out of here."  
Without turning, he made his way away from Alex and to the stairs of the pool. Alex's calm voice followed after him.  
"And what will you do with the litter?" Damon paused. Alex pressed him. "Will you take them with you, to speed the discovery of your entire colony, or will you leave them behind - abandon your own children in pursuit of some selfish concept of freedom that's long since become outdated?"  
The nausea swelled.  
"I will do what I must to save my children the best way I can."  
Damon continued on his way, climbed out of the water, and took two dripping steps. Behind him, Alex moved, making little waves in the pool around him, and asked one more.  
"Even the cubs?"  
Damon stopped short, shrugged his shoulders and walked on, refusing to allow Alex to see how his words had affected him. He would certainly make it out of the compound, or else he would die in trying.

* * *

Getting the guard to take him for a late night roam proved to be completely impossible. Not only were the guards unwilling to run such a major security risk, but apparently they had also been given specific instructions to keep Damon at home that evening. The cause was a mystery to Damon, but the solution became radically clear when, about two hours before the midnight meal, the door to their quarters slid open and revealed Kriston in the doorway, skin red with the dust of travel and eyes heavy with fatigue.

"Kriston!" the exclamation was one of surprise more than delight, but Kriston read it the way he wished.  
"Darling."

Damon tried to ask him questions - where he'd been and why, what had happened, why he was so red, where that new scar across his thigh had come from - but Kriston was too worn out to answer any of them. Instead, he just kissed Damon's head, stumbled his way to the private baths and then collapsed, barely conscious, on the bed in their room.

The guards had been dismissed as soon as Kriston had arrived at home, and Damon immediately recognized his opportunity. Leaving the wolfe sleeping, Day crept around the room, stealthily collecting the few things he wanted to take with him. He tied these to his waist, tucking them inside his robes. Excitement thrummed through his veins. Kriston's arrival could be nothing but Providence, because what other way would Damon have to escape the watchful eye of the Pack guards? And with the marks even now fading on the trees...  
Damon checked his bundles and made his way to the nursery, the last place he would to visit before leaving.

Damon had known from the minute Alex had refused him that he would have a decision to make. It was dark, and there were a thousand dangers on the road to freedom, not least of which was the possibility of capture. Taking any of the litter was going to be a risk; like carrying a tiny homing beacon of sound and scent, if Kriston or the pack should come after them. But to leave them all...they were his, after all, as much his as they were Kriston's and he couldn't leave them, couldn't bear to abandon them to a life bereft of even the tiniest glimpse of the world outside the compound walls. He had to try.

Carrying six infants would be impossible. Damon knew that. He also knew that his options were limited: he could ask for help, maybe involve someone else in the escape, but that would only heighten the penalty in the event they were captured. Human conspiracy carried with it a very serious charge of treason against the Empire. He couldn't carry the weight of another man's conviction on his shoulders. He could make two trips - perhaps take three, leave them with his people, then come back for the others. No....that, too, carried an increased risk that he was unwilling to take. Escaping once might be easy enough - twice would be impossible.

Damon knew he would have to go alone, and he would have to leave some of the lit behind. But how to decide which ones? Damon knew what he would have to do far before he knew that he would do it, and he stood almost a quarter of an hour over the litter's crib, just stroking his firstborn's head. But he had no choice. There was no other way. He would have to leave the wolfe cubs behind.

* * *

Charlton and Ozgür, the only two humans, and the only two Kriston had allowed him to name, were nestled tightly against his back, kept in place with the length of cloth Damon had wrapped twice around his body and tied off. The air was cool for the seventh moon, damp and laced with smoke from the kitchen fires that Damon knew were not very far away. He kept walking, kept to the shadows. About forty yards in front of him, he could see a pair of guards, pacing their territory, out on the evening route. He paused, waiting to let them pass. He had no idea where he was going, but the darkness was kind to him and if he could find the tree he'd seen before, he knew he could find his way.

It took almost an hour, and Damon was petrified the entire time. Staying downwind was the most difficult part, but luckily the summer season had been quiet and so the guards had grown unused to searching for trouble. He had wrapped himself in cloth from their bed - the mingled scents of wolfe and human serving to diminish his own and, hopefully, eliminate the scent of Oz and Charlie. If he could make it into the tree line, past the second and third markers and to the river, he was guaranteed to find his family there. Damon looked up at the sky above him. The half-full moon was dipping down low and Damon hoped that that was a good sign. He kept walking.

He made it to the tree line. The moon was rising, lay silver on the trees and cast shadows through the forest, long his path and into the forest around him. Twenty yards in, he knew someone was following him. He heard the slight off-step, the minute additions to the sounds of the forest. His heart beat faster. The moon continued to rise. He made it to the second marker. Oz gurgled and moved, clenching a tiny fist against his badi's back, but Damon couldn't stop to hush him. He had to keep moving, keep running, make it to the river. He couldn't cross the river - he knew that as well as anyone did; the guard was thick on that side to defend the most disputed territory, and there were many frightening things lurking near to the woods that lined the bank. But if he met his family at the river, then they would help him reach the underground. The river meant the underground, and the underground meant home. He had to keep walking.

He was halfway to the second marker when a burst of movement behind him, to his left, made him spin, taste fear, and prepare to break into a cold run. The pursuer beat him to the punch, however, and all Damon saw was one flash of tail before the stalker was gone. It only took Damon two more seconds to realize that he'd been caught. He ran. He ran, legs aching and lungs burning because he hadn't done this in so long, especially not since giving birth and definitely not with twenty extra pounds strapped to his back. He could see the second marker, was almost there, could hear the rush of cool water just beyond when he heard his name.

"Damon."  
Day turned back, his first mistake because Kriston was standing on the path behind him, breathing heavily - too heavily - and clenching one hand across his gut, half-slumped with the other hand resting on his newly-scarred thigh.  
"Damon, please."

He wasn't even howling. Why wasn't he howling? He could call his men, have the others here in a heartbeat. Damon knew he was caught. Why wasn't Kriston howling? Maybe it was pride. Stupid, stupid pride because maybe Kriston had decided that if he couldn't bring him back, then no one else should be able to. Leave it to his wolfe to think of something like that. Or maybe it wasn't pride.

"Damon," Kriston dropped his head, fingers clamping spastically on his leg and stomach, "Please don't leave me."

Damon felt the words like a fist. The wolfe seemed to be struggling to breathe. Damon hesitated just an instant more. If he ran, would Kriston chase him? Of course he would - he'd come after him until he couldn't run any farther. Injured though he was, his wolfe would follow him to the ends of the earth, or better yet, to the edge of the river. If Damon was planning this right, he could lure him into the water. And what would he do then? Pull him out, play the role of deliverer, or just let the damn barker drown? Damon didn't know what to do. Then he heard his name again.  
"Damon!"

This time, it was urgent, frightened. It was his sister. She was standing by the river.  
"Run!" he screamed, Kriston and his injury temporarily forgotten. "Alyssa, run!"

The babies had woken by now, and tiny mouths began to cry. Kriston stiffened at this, tail went taut, eyes narrowed. Damon suspected he'd only just realized exactly what was happening. Damon cast a panicked glance between his husband and his sister. Alyssa was still standing on the path.  
"Alyssa, _fucking_ run!"  
"Damon! Please! You have to come now - the clan is moving on! Follow me!"  
Kriston began to growl, and Damon bolted for the river.

Kriston was on him, right on him, even though he was running slow. Alyssa was in front of him first, then gone - disappeared, he was sure, into some hidey-hole. He flew past the first marker, and she reappeared, running next to him, making some kind of gesture with her hands. He shook his head. Kriston was gaining on him.

"The children!" she was screaming, "Give me the children!"

Damon looked behind him - Kriston was gaining. He slowed as much as he could afford, let her reach his back - pluck one, then two from the intricate carriage of cloth. He looked back again and Kriston wasn't there - he looked again and his mate was collapsed, lying prostrate on the ground. Damon stopped, but Alyssa kept running. Day didn't remember making the decision to go back for Kriston, but suddenly he was there, his hands on his mate's face, in his hair, turning him over.  
"Kriston."

The wolfe's head was limp and his eyes were glazed. Damon looked back up to the path. Alyssa was gone. Damon swallowed the cold knot in his throat, stared once more down the path after them. He looked back at Kriston. The wolfe was growing cold in his hands. Hoping for the best, he leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and howled. Not very far off, he heard six wolfes howl in return. Above them, the moon was bright.


	12. Initiations

**Autumn, Year Three (9th Moon)**

The date of Jara and Jeirio's initiations approached rapidly.

Alex put down the piece of cloth he'd been trimming, let his head loll back onto his shoulders, stretching his neck which had grown sore from bending over his work. Ethan was next to him, resolutely cutting cloth into pieces of an appropriate size for the robes he and Alexei were making. Jara and Jeirio were braiding other pieces to complete the outfit, talking quietly to each other and smiling.

The new six - howlers, Jara called them, were all in classes for the morning, but would probably appear later. Alexei thought about Damon. It was noon now, time for meals. He wondered where Damon would be. He hadn't seen him since the night he and Kriston had been brought back. He didn't expect he would see him for a while, because Garron reported that Day had been confined to quarters, exiting only occasionally and only under the strict and direct supervision of his mate. Kriston would not let him run again. There had been no mention of the litter, and Alex wondered what had become of them as well. The bells rang for noonmeal.

"Come. Let's take a break and come back to finish this." Ethan was standing up, stretching his back. "We can be done by nighttime and then it's smooth sailing on to next week."

Alexei swallowed all thoughts of Damon and escape and smiled back at Jara, who was beaming at him. Ethan and Jeirio made their way out of the door, but Jara lagged behind with Alex. Alex, sensing that he wanted to say something, put some distance between them, and let Jara speak.  
"Thank you, First Alpha Mate, for doing this for me."  
Alex smiled sincerely now.  
"It's my honor, Jara."

Jara smiled in the sheepish way that he usually did and reached out a hand to pull Alex to his feet.   
In the hallway, a wall called his name and Jara stepped away to give him some privacy. Accustomed by now to this phenomenon, Alex responded calmly. The voice from the other side seemed frantic.  
"First Alpha Mate, it's Kaz. I - I think I need you. Can you meet me at the noonmeal?"  
Alex affirmed that he would and headed down the hall to catch up with Jara, turning over in his head what the problem could possibly be.

* * *

Noonmeal was busy, as expected, with all the sounds of nearly the entire compound coming down to eat. The younger humans and wolfes moved between tables, carrying food out to the adults in their sections before sitting down to eat themselves. Only older youth were allowed to work within the kitchen, where spills, burns, and cuts were a danger. Alexei looked for Kaz in the crowd, and finally found him standing by a wall near to the door, looking anxiously around for Alex. Alex went over to him immediately.

"You sounded worried, Kaz. What's wrong?"  
Kaz turned to him, misery written all over his face.  
"I think Mika is sick."  
Alex cocked his head, unsure how Kaz expected him to help with this; he wasn't yet trained as a medic, or even a nurse.  
"He's sick?"  
"Something's wrong with him!" Kaz was getting frantic.  
"OK, OK. Just calm down. What's wrong with him?"  
"He won't leave me alone."  
Alex frowned, tried to take this in.  
"He won't leave you alone?"  
"No!"  
"Alright, take it easy."  
"And he's just...acting weird. He's...mean."  
Now Alex was surprised. Mika was a lot of things, but he'd never displayed anything short of fanatical adoration towards Kaz.  
"He's mean?"

Kaz nodded vigorously. His voice dropped off to a whisper.  
"He tried to take me, three times this morning, and on the third time, I told him to stop and he almost bit me."  
Comprehension began to dawn. Kaz was chewing hard on his lip.  
"And his skin is hot and he's hungry all the time. And he growled at me when I tried to leave our quarters - I only got out because I said I was going for food!"  
Kaz was pacing now, in a little line in front of Alex.  
"I think he's rabid. I think he's going mad. Maybe he got bit by something when he went on patrol. Maybe something attacked him. But there's nothing they can do for rabid wolfes! I don't know what to do - what am I going to do??"

Alex shook his head, put both hands on Kaz's shoulders to stem the rising tide of emotion.  
"He's not rabid. I think he's just in season. Suddenly possessive, territorial, sexually aggressive, has an elevated metabolism and body temperature? Sounds like season."  
Kaz stared for a long time at Alex. Alex glanced away. Kaz kept staring.  
"What?"  
"Season. Heat. I think he's in heat. You've been bonded a couple of months now - we all knew this was coming."  
Kaz's eyes darkened.  
"I didn't know this was coming."  
"Did you think it wasn't going to come?"  
Kaz squared his shoulders, suddenly annoyed by Alex's flippancy.  
"I hadn't really thought about it." he sniffed.   
Alex raised an eyebrow.  
"Ah. Well, time to think about it. Ask the kitchen for enough food for the next week or so, take a supply of relaxer chew, notify his legion leader and cancel all your appointments for the next ten days. Don't fight him and don't talk too much. I'll see you next week."  
Alex turned to look for a seat.  
"Wait!"  
He turned back.  
"What's wrong?"  
Kaz was biting his lip again, eyes wide with worry, and suddenly he looked very much like he had the day he'd woken up in the infirmary.  
"What if he hurts me?"  
Alex stared at him for a moment, almost suspecting...he shook his head.  
"Kaz, you are his mate. You will be fine. Try to ride it out, and if anything goes wrong, you can always call me, OK?"  
Kaz nodded, comforted.  
"OK."  
"You'll be OK, Kaz."  
Kaz bolstered himself enough for a genuine smile.  
"I'll be OK."

* * *

It had been six days since Alyssa had been gone. Kriston was pacing slowly in the formal sitting room of his quarters. Damon sat by the window, silent as he'd been for almost two weeks now. In the other room, two of the puppies cried loudly for their mother. Damon ignored them both.

"Damon."  
the wolfe's voice was gentle; gentler than Damon expected or wanted. He looked up miserably at Kriston, briefly before turning back to his window.  
"We have to find them."  
Kriston stared out the window with him.  
"I know."

They stood together for a while; just watching, just waiting, listening - as if the weeks-old little pair of them would come suddenly bounding over the hills, asking at the door if Kriston and Damon were in. The wolfe cleared his mind first.  
"Your sons are asking after you, my Day."  
Damon shook his head, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. His voice was flat, monotone, empty.  
"My milk is poison."  
Kriston raised both eyebrows. His mate's guilty depression had deepened lately, begun to venture into something worse; something darker.  
"Damon, come now - please? Your children are hungry."

One of the young servants appeared in the doorway, looking concerned. In the far room, the crying went on. Damon didn't move.  
Frustrated, Kriston paced to the end of the room. The servant looked on in worry.  
"Feed them false, let them sleep. He'll nurse later."

The youth nodded and scurried off to do as he was told. Kriston, tail drooping low, made his way back over to his mate.  
"Can you come to bed, love? I am aching for a nap, and things will look better in the evening."

Damon didn't respond, but did comply with Kriston's coaxing and allowed himself to be guided into the bedroom, where he lay stiffly sideways beside his mate until both of them fell asleep.

When he slept, he dreamed of his sister. When he woke, he had come to a decision.


	13. By the Light of the Moon

**Second winter, Year Three (12th Moon)**

It had been a long winter, and it wasn't even halfway over. Kriston was helping his mate collect leaves and branches to make a wreath; this was the one time each year when humans all seemed very intent on bringing the outdoors in. Kriston did not quite understand the tradition, but loved it all the same because it made Damon happy. It was good, the wolfe thought, to see him happy about anything at all. The last three months had felt empty between them.

Damon went out once a week to check the trees for his family's mark. Three months now, and no sign whatsoever. He went alone to look - in the beginning, he'd taken Kaz, but as the younger human's pregnancy had progressed, his desire to be in the cold had decreased dramatically, and so Damon was left to fend for himself in this. Still no sign. Damon went back indoors.

That night, he prayed for a sign to guide him. At dawn, he woke from an uneasy sleep; the morning star looked blue. Damon moved closer to Kriston's side and nuzzled him, smelled his smoky juniper scent. Kris stirred and woke slowly.  
"What is it, love?"  
Damon paused a long time and Kriston thought he might have fallen back asleep.   
"I know where Oz & Charlie are."  
Now Kriston was wide awake, sitting bolt upright in the bed and suspiciously examining his mate.  
"What?"  
There was a trace of panic in his voice. Damon belatedly realized that he probably suspected the worst.  
"They are fine; they're unharmed, love. But I know where they are."  
Kriston's heart was pounding - half excitement at the possibility of retrieving his children, half fright at his beta's strange behavior. Damon was looking at him intently now.   
"I can't get to them, though, Kriston. Not like this. I will need your help."  
Fright was morphing into anger.  
"Love, you're not making sense. Where are the puppies? If you know something, tell me. Please - tell me!"  
Damon exhaled in frustration. His point was not getting through.  
"They are with my sister, and she is with our clan. Now, I know where the clan is; or at least, where they might be. But our clan is heavily armored and Alyssa will not allow me simply to take them and come back. She will make me fight, and I cannot win against my entire clan. You can."  
Kriston furrowed his brow.  
"But you told me - "  
"I remember," Damon said, holding one hand up, "What I told you."  
Day looked away - was it guilt? and there was a pause; the tension rose.  
"What are you suggesting, Damon?"  
"I am suggesting that you go and get them."  
Kriston felt something in the pit of his stomach.  
"Damon...this is..." the wolfe sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, paced the floor. "This is - I cannot let you - " he swallowed slowly.   
"This is not a choice to be made lightly."  
Damon smiled a tight smile, stood, and came closer to Kriston. Gently, he kissed his neck, put both hands on his face, refused to allow him to turn; made him meet his eyes.  
"They pass the eastern bank in the second moon."

* * *

He couldn't sleep beside Kriston any longer after he'd spoken those words - his mate's pensive expression was only a reminder of his own act of betrayal. But he'd had no choice - had he? Foolhardy as he was, he'd brought the whole thing on himself. He wanted to sleep. He couldn't. He made his way to the bathing rooms.

The baths were mostly empty this time of night, but would fill again after the early morning meal. Damon chose a shallow, warm pool underneath the glass ceiling and looked upwards, for his family's star. He couldn't seem to find it.


	14. Zechariah, Semmelin, and Zo'amirac

**First Winter, Year Four (1st Moon)**

First Alpha Mate Alex crying out First Alpha Wolfe Garron's name was the last thing that Jara felt like waking up to. He put the pillow over his head and tried desperately to crush out the sound of his alpha pair rutting in the next room. They were going to make him mad with lack of sleep or insane with jealousy. He got up and went to go bathe.

In the baths, he stroked his scars and thought about his mother and how far he'd come. Warm baths were a long way from frozen in the snow. And he remembered being frozen, remembered it well. Sometimes, he reflected, watching the shadows of the sunrise pass overhead, he still felt frozen. Jara shook the thought away and began to scrub himself.

When he got back from the baths, his vare and his alpha seemed to have slowed down, so he decided to take a quick nap before the little ones got up. When he woke again, the chrono read an hour after morning meal. It was a brilliant day already.

He wandered into the kitchens, seeking scraps from the earlier meal. He'd already missed the leaving-time for his work group, and the wee ones were all in classes, so he figured he'd have a meal and then catch up on more rest.

He poked his head uneasily around the wall of the kitchen entrance; he hated coming here in off-times. The place always seemed so busy and Jara felt entirely out of place. He clenched and unclenched his hands, squeezed his legs together as he stood to the side. For a moment, no one seemed to notice him; then, suddenly, a young wolfe in bare chest was standing in front of him, arms crossed and a spatula clasped in one hand.

"Need something, beta?"  
Jara swallowed, slightly put off at being addressed so cooly. His eyes drifted to the wolfe's chest, then down to his own feet.  
"Just - anything left? From morning meal?"  
The wolfe scoffed.  
"If you want it. Mal-chim and brok eggs went unfavored. Find it in the walkin."  
"The...?"  
"Walk in. Right over there."  
Jara just blinked at him.  
"It's the - hell, I'll take you."

The wolfe rushed off and Jara was almost left behind. As he trailed behind, he watched the sway of the wolfe's tail as it bobbed after him. He would never cease to be fascinated by those odd appendages - those wolfish bodies, so different from his own. He was lost in thoughts of this nature when suddenly a wall came up in front of him.

"Let's all keep our eyes open, why don't we?"  
It wasn't a wall. Jara gingerly removed himself from the wolfe's bare back.   
The wolfe was opening a door, heading into it. Jara followed, face red with embarrassment.  
"Um, sorry."  
"Don't be. You're quite soft. Didn't bother me a bit."  
Jara made a face at the strange response.  
"There, there, and there. Bowls are out - you know where to find them."  
The wolfe turned to go and Jara breathed in the cool air of the coldroom. He went over to the brok eggs, picked up two and turned to see the wolfe leaning casually against the wall. He dropped both eggs. They bounced, and the wolfe caught them on the upswing.  
"Graceful."  
If Jara could turn any redder, he didn't want to know about it. The wolfe shook his head, redeposited the eggs, grinned at Jara, and left the room. Jara just felt like getting home.

* * *

 **First Winter, Year Four (2nd Moon)**

The compound was tense; winter had been long and was not yet done. Long storms had kept the entirety of the population inside, with the exception of occasional winter work and afternoon hunts. Garron and Kriston took the opportunity to expand training time; all wolfes were now required to report five hours a day, with the exception of medical workers. Classes and work were pushed back into the evening. This meant, of course, that most of the general human population of the compound suddenly found themselves with a lot less to do.

Alex, unfortunately, was not one of these humans.

Waking slowly to a cold bed and the vaguest touch of the morning light, he rolled onto his back, scrubbed his eyes with one hand. The quarters had the subtle non-quiet of a house full of sleeping people - creaks as someone moved, got up, went back to sleep. Alex noticed that his hearing had gotten better since the pregnancy. Sometimes, he felt sure he could even discern heartbeats, but mostly he figured it was just his imagination.

Today would be a day much like the ones before; he ran his household well, and things moved smoothly, busy though they might be. The servants were doing a fine job of helping him with the litter, and he wasn't sure where he'd be without them. Jara hadn't been around much lately, too preoccupied, he assumed, with seeking out a mate, and so he'd been left with just Kaz for company, who, at four and a half months and with a litter of an estimated four pups, was in good spirits, but quickly tired.

Damon had begun to come around a bit in the past few weeks, but he seemed unanchored, always distracted, and at times, would lapse into bouts of melancholy that were impossible to bring him out of. Alex wasn't sure what had transpired - Damon had only told him that two of the pups were gone and that he didn't want to talk any further about it. Alex supposed their loss must have hit him hard. He thought about his brother, Nikolai. It had been so long...perhaps he would like to arrange for a visit? Maybe to see the litter. He'd missed seeing Nik's own, but they'd been born so soon after his arrival in ColdRiver, and Garron hadn't completely trusted him to be on his own just yet, so he'd been unable to make the journey. Nik assured him it was OK, but the guilt still lingered. Outside, the snow continued to fall as ColdRiver began its day.

* * *

Just one week more. Damon repeated this mantra to himself as he lay in bed, staring up at the ornately Wolfish ceiling.   
One week more and he would have his children back.   
One week more and they would be in his arms.   
One week more and Kriston would forgive him for all he'd done.   
One week more and he could forgive himself.   
One week more.

It took a lot of effort not to think of what else might happen in one week more. There had been conversations between he and Kriston - many, whispered late at night so that no one even passing by might get the slightest glimpse of what they were talking about. It would be just a group raid, Kriston promised. It would be just his family. Things would be dirty, but simple. No one would get hurt. Damon felt in the pit of his stomach that this was a lie. Somebody always got hurt. But he believed in Kriston and he trusted his wolfe, so he agreed to the simplistic plan and watched every day for the sign that his family was back. He knew the rounds - created to appear random, but in fact governed by a complex set of mathematical laws that as yet, no outsider had ever learned. Damon refused to change that, told Kriston that he could not teach him the way to read their marks. Kriston had understood. Damon's eyes welled with tears. Kriston always understood. In another room, the rest of the litter began to wake, the familiar whimper-cries drifting in and disturbing his thoughts. Kriston would be wanting him to feed just now, if he were around to give orders, and his chest was aching anyway. He got out of bed himself, deciding to let the servants sleep.

* * *

It was halfway through the second moon. Kriston was up early, dressing silently in the dark. Damon still slept. He slid into clothing first - thick shirt and pants, tunic over it to keep warm. Shielding after that. He left his weapons. He wouldn't need weapons. He needed his mate. He looked over to the bed - Damon still slept. Kriston shouldered a pack and turned to go.

~:~

Kriston paced out a course for his troops in the snow. His paws were cool, damp with the melt, but not nearly affected enough to keep him from pressing on. His true wolfe thought idly about his mate and cubs - measuring distance, keeping an ear perked, planning a course by which he could always reach them, unwilling to stray too far from a newborn den.

With another part of himself, he contemplated the question that had been plaguing him since Damon had first come to him that evening. Would he betray his pack? Or would he betray his mate? He had given Damon his word not to speak on the whereabouts of the humans, but...the opportunity for a massive raid was almost too tempting to ignore. The winter had raised tensions high, and an influx of potential mates could do a lot to quell exasperated spirits.

Besides that, winter was such a time of danger for humans - scarce food and frozen water, harsh elements and wild predators pushed to the brink made survival difficult, and it was not unheard of to find their dead left out in the trees, the ground being too cold to dig into. Kriston would prefer to minimize the dual possibilities of human loss and wolfish dissatisfaction. He had a responsibility to tell Garron. He had a responsibility to help his mate. Kriston hit a branch, felt a brief twinge in his ankle, shook his fur and carried on, his pack coursing behind him like a river. He wished things could just be simpler. He wished he hadn't promised Damon his silence.

~:~

It all happened so fast that later, Kriston couldn't even remember what role he'd played - couldn't remember enough to tell his mate, assure him he'd done no harm, hurt no humans. He didn't even know himself. They went quietly, a team of twenty, spread out to flank and surround the group. Their fires were down, but their sentinels sat watch. The hunt would have to be silent.

The first guard did not put up a fight, just set down his weapon and calmly raised his arms in surrender. The second was not so simple. He panicked, shot three times into the air, and set off an alarm throughout the camp. Quicker than he anticipated humans could manage, lights went on and fires flared. Then there was shouting, running, and he had enough time to cast one look of fear at Garron before there was weapon fire and he saw through the smoke Garron give the signal and like beasts at a kill, the wolfes were attacking.   
He hadn't meant for it to go like this.

Alyssa went unharmed - when they trapped her, she had Oz and Charlie strapped to her back and this made the wolfes snap and growl at her because they scented one of their own, but she stood her ground and for a moment, Kriston was back at the beginning, and he saw again the bright light he'd seen when Day had first stumbled his way into his life. The battle went on.  
When the wolfish team finished, there was nothing left.

Thirty-four humans tied and ready for transfer to the wolfish life. Seventeen dead. Twenty-two injured, one critically. Damon's family hadn't been traveling alone. The group heard the signs of it - distant feet running and the low whoosh of air that meant they were using signal, not voice. Six wolfes turned their heads, tempted. Garron called them back. Later, he said. It was already a victory.

They put out the fires and Kriston made his way to the girl - already there was the excited whisper of a female and who would be the first to breed her. To her credit, to her blood, Alyssa did not look terrified. Kriston expected nothing else. He went calmly to her, stood in front of her where she knelt on the ground, tied to a tree, Oz and Charlie cradled in baskets beside her. He used every sense to check them over. His children were alright, but quick moves would startle them, frighten her. For now, they slept. She saw him, moved in front of them when he came. He knelt down and she recognized his face.  
"You are the wolfe who fell in the woods."  
Kriston nodded.  
"You took my brother."  
Kriston nodded. Alyssa bit her lip.  
"He lives?"  
Kriston smiled.  
"Well."  
"I expected you would kill him for his betrayal."  
Kriston's smile disappeared and he shook his head.  
"He did not betray us - he only wanted for his children what he wanted for himself."  
Alyssa twisted her mouth in a half sneer.  
"I meant his betrayal of us."  
Kriston wanted to slap her face. He got to his feet, turned away.  
"Wait! My wrists."  
he ignored her.  
"My wrists!" she was insistent. The wolfe guarding her looked warily at Kriston, then Alyssa. Her eyes were round in her face. She looked innocent.  
"Please...just loosen the ties."  
Kriston met her eyes. He had not seen a female in many years. Her eyes were golden.  
"Do it. One centimeter."

It was too much, or just enough rather - the wolfe guard was still leaning over her when she got enough space to reach his blade. She cut her wrists wide open.   
The medics had already left. The guard was shouting and Garron was there instantaneously and they untied her and compressed her but she laughed when they hefted her onto their shoulders and began to run, went pale quickly in the rushing wind. She died with her fingers dangling in Kriston's fur.

* * *

Damon was pacing in the infirmary when Kriston returned, cradling Ozgür and Charlton easily in his arms. He saw them and took a step back, almost as if afraid to approach, until Kriston urged him over and offered him an infant. Oz squealed in his badi's hands, and Kriston saw real tears fall from Damon's eyes. The same eyes looked up, searching for his, suddenly remembering.

"My family?"  
Kriston was rocking Charlton, taking small strides back and forth across the room. He met his mate's eyes.  
"Seventeen dead. Fifty-five captured: twenty-two injured, thirty-three unharmed."  
Damon paused.  
"My sister?"  
Kriston stopped rocking Charlton, stood still in the middle of the room.  
"She escaped."  
Damon looked relieved. Kriston felt regret biting at him.  
"She...likely did not make it, Damon. The woods in these parts are treacherous, especially for a human alone."  
Damon shook his head, smiled a little.  
"Alyssa is strong. She'll make it. She'll be OK."  
Kriston didn't respond, just quietly reached out with his free hand to stroke Damon's face. His mate looked up at him adoringly.  
"Thank you." he mouthed, not wanting to wake the infants. "Thank you."

~:~

Later, when the sun was up and hot and the litter was sleeping (all reunited now) and Damon had cried enough and asked about his uncles and cousins and great-uncle, and noonmeal had been brought and eaten, Kriston introduced a new topic.

"There are decisions to be made about what to do with your clan members, Damon."  
Damon looked up apprehensively. Kriston went on.  
"Only thirty-seven are viable; four of those will likely be kept here; the rest will go to TallTrees; there is a dire shortage of mates there, and problems are beginning to arise."

Damon stared blankly, unsure why Kriston was telling him this, except maybe to offer him time to say goodbye. Sorrow pricked his throat.  
"Of the four who will be staying," Kriston was looking intently at him, "I can only allow two who are your blood."  
Damon was prepared to challenge immediately.  
"Why only two? Why not three, or four?"  
Kriston moved one hand from the table to his thigh, bit his tongue to hide a smile at the return of the Damon he missed and loved.  
"Too many of you could lead to rebellion, increase your chances of escape. It's two or none, Damon."

Damon scowled to himself. Perhaps if he had not so recently broken his wolfe's trust, this wouldn't be a valid point. But he had and it was, and so now it would have to be dealt with.  
"One has already been selected. He is intended to mate Me'tanalith."

Metanalith. Damon knew the wolfe - a recent addition from Arem'mir; Kriston praised him incessantly as a faithful general, strong leader, powerful fighter. Damon remembered his as the wolfe who didn't speak much, but seemed tolerable enough; he was tall and thickly built, with a long scar running the length of his face's left side. When Kriston was away, he'd been the one who brought brief messages for Damon about his wellbeing. It would be interesting, Damon thought, to see who he had chosen as a mate.

"Who is meant to mate him?" he picked up his glass idly.  
Kriston shrugged.  
"A young human. The one with golden string braided into his hair." Damon stopped mid-sip.  
"Zechariah?"  
Kriston shrugged.  
"He talks incessantly."  
Damon nodded.  
"The same." he put his glass down.  
"Zechariah is my youngest cousin," he said firmly, "and he's not getting mated to anyone."

* * *

The next day, Damon reluctantly left Oz and Charlie in the care of the two youngest servants and went down with Kriston to the holding area where twenty-nine of the original group were being kept.  
"What time is their transfer to TallTrees?"  
Kriston shook his head.  
"LongTrees, and sorry, pup, can't tell you that."  
Damon scoffed in annoyance. Kriston looked at him.  
"Consider it a compliment on your people's gift for subterfuge and escape."

Kriston nodded his head in greeting to the two guards who stepped aside, uncrossing their weapons from the main entry door. Damon sulked and glared at them. They exchanged looks and resumed their positions. Inside, Kriston led him down a series of hallways. Archways, at random intervals, Kriston explained, measured their progress and monitored any physiological changes, also noted their identity. The hall was dimly lit, but lined with bright-shining windows that led into warm-looking yellow-and-blue holding rooms, painted with large murals depicting scenes of wolfish life.

"I don't remember the holding cells looking like this." Damon remarked suspiciously.  
"Well, darling, none of these lovely humans have tried individually to kill an alpha. They also haven't thrown bowls at the guards, broken a nurse's nose, mangled equipment, or insulted the intake worker."  
Damon looked half chagrined, half proud.  
"So, unlike your illustrious first day here, they haven't talked their way into a lower level holding pen - at least, not yet."  
Kriston smiled at his mate to let him know that it was all in jest, but Damon was already preoccupied with looking into a room, face pressed to the glass, eyes wide with excitement.

* * *

Zechariah was sitting with his back to the door, quietly perusing a book, his long brown legs stretched out on the soft-looking bed in front of him. The clothes he wore, dark red wolfish robes a bit loose on him, were pushed up to his thighs, barely draped over them for decency. Kriston had guessed that he was about 18, from the lingering awkwardness in his movements and the youthfulness of his face. He had dark hair, to his shoulders in thin twists with gold thread and ribbon interspersed, and sweet, round brown eyes, with a small straight nose and full lips that made his face look young, sweet, and perfectly balanced. Kriston noted that his skin still bore a bluish tint, evidence of a recent arrival from the underground. Zechariah leaned languorously back against the wall behind the bed, and a pile of clothes and a few empty cups and dishes littered the floor.

"Zech!"  
at the sound of his name, he turned, jumping up and letting out a cry of surprise when he saw Damon. He ran over and hugged his cousin.  
"Damon! What are you doing here?"  
Damon paused and tilted his head.  
"I live here, Zech."  
"Oh."  
"Yes. Zech, are you OK?"  
Damon's eyes raced over him, his fingers fluttered over shoulders, arms, chest, pushing the robe aside to check all over for injuries.  
"I'm fine, I'm fine. Just scratches, but the wolfes healed me all up. Are you OK?"  
Damon nodded.  
"I'm fine." He drew Zechariah into a hug again. "Oh, man, is it good to see you."

Zechariah smiled, then looked past him, to the wolfe still lingering by the door.  
"They gave you a guard, too, huh? Ask him to bring us some hunna to celebrate our reunion."  
Damon frowned.  
"He's my husband, not a guard, and no, you don't need any hunna - have you been drinking hunna?"  
Zechariah blinked at him.  
"He's your husband?"  
Damon nodded warily. Concern, then amazement dawned on Zech's face.  
"So they really were serious!"  
Damon raised an eyebrow.  
"Who? About what?"  
Zech wandered over to the bed he'd been lying on and began rifling around for something.  
"The nurses who came in. They explained to me why I was here. They said that..." Zech pulled the covers back, felt all around the mattress, and kept looking. "That I was safe, and they were my friends, and that I could go outside anytime I wanted to - outside, Damon, with the sun! But I went, and it was too cold, so I'm in here - and that this is my home now, and that there was a wolfe who lived here who wanted me to be his mate."

Damon thought this over; Zechariah's reaction to finding himself in the compound had been so different than his own; he'd been kicking and screaming the entire way. Zech barely seemed perturbed. But he was young, even younger than Damon had been when he'd come here, and at least Zechariah had the support of having his family here, for a while, at least. Certainly, things must be easier on him. But still, the stress of the attack...Zech suddenly produced something from between the wall and his bed with a flourish. He held it out to Damon. Day took it from him and examined it in his hands. It was a small braided animal pelt.

"He gave me this."  
Damon was suspicious immediately.  
"Who did?"  
"Metabaliff. He's the wolfe who came to see me. He said that he was honored to meet me, and that I was handsome, and that he's going to be my mate." Damon snapped around to look scathingly at Kriston. The wolfe wriggled his nose and looked anxious.  
"He was wrong." Damon said quickly. "It was a mistake." Zechariah's face fell. Damon rolled his eyes. "About him being your mate, I mean. You're still handsome as ever."   
Zech looked happy again and Damon grinned a little at his cousin's vanity.

Kriston suddenly appeared at his mate's side, attention directed on the younger human in front of him.  
"And how would you feel about that, Zechariah? If it was not a mistake?"  
Zechariah glanced at the wolfe, looking confused.  
"About - about mating with Metabaliff?"  
"Me'tanalith." Kriston corrected slowly.  
Damon shook his head, stepped between his cousin and his mate.  
"Doesn't matter. He's my cousin," he growled, "under my care, and he is not getting mated to anyone."  
Kriston looked coolly over his mate and returned his gaze to Zechariah, who was looking for direction from Damon.  
"He is under your authority and I am your alpha; he is therefore under my dominion, and I will see to efforts of his welfare, not you."  
Damon's brow came together in a serious frown.  
"I don't give a damn what your dominion is." Kriston bristled. "He's not getting mated. He's human and he's young and he's like my little brother. I am taking care of him."  
Kriston blinked calmly at Damon.  
"And, Damon, how judicious have you proven yourself when it comes to caring for anyone?"

Damon was entrenched in confusion for a moment - his mate couldn't have been implying - no, he was sure that Kriston would not have said - not about the litter, no, but he had. The confusion lifted and the awful certainty that Kriston had said it, had meant it, and probably really believed it was there. His cheeks burned; his heart ached. He hadn't meant to hurt his litter; he'd just been doing what he thought was best - of course he loved them! That was why he'd sent them with Alyssa in the first place, but now she was gone and his family was captured and it kind of had all happened at his silly discretion, but he'd done his best, hadn't he? And it could be fixed, it could all be fixed. It was only a mistake, just a mistake, and Kriston couldn't possibly not forgive him for mistakes, could he? Did his mate distrust him now? Would he take his litter away? Damon's stomach roiled at the thought.

He couldn't think about the litter. He couldn't think about his family, not Alyssa who was alone in the underground somewhere in the world or his elders to whom he was afraid to show his face, or his mate who suddenly hated him. He could think about Zechariah. Zechariah was staring at him worriedly. Kriston even looked concerned. Damon realized he'd been silent a very long time. He tried to swallow, but couldn't make his heart stop pounding. He wanted to go home and lay in bed and cry. Zechariah was watching him, twisting the braid Me'tanalith had given him between two fingers in his left hand.

"No."  
Kriston furrowed his brow, didn't understand. Damon wanted to make him understand.  
"No, you can't make him do this."  
The wolfe sighed.  
"Damon, be reasonable. Viable mates cannot go unchartered. These are desperate times, now. The winter is cold. My pack is already dissatisfied by the coalition sent to LongTrees."  
Damon shook his head.  
"No."  
"And you know that he will not be unkindly treated. Me'tanalith will spoil him."  
"No."  
"The wolfe is a fine warrior with a strong alpha nature and many accolades on his position; Zechariah will live a well-cared-for life."  
"I don't care - no. Never."  
"Alright, Damon. That's enough." Kriston's voice was firm, his alpha nature beginning to rise. Damon ignored it.  
"No, it's not enough! You can't just take control of his life and take it away like that! You won't do it to him! You won't! You can't steal him from his home, and take away his family and lock him up and hurt him, and keep him for your plaything and make him breed like he has no wants and no desires and no plans of his own and no feelings! You can't do that to him, Kriston, not like you did it to me!"

Zechariah and Kriston were both staring at him now. Damon tried to breathe evenly, tried to make his chest stop heaving. He couldn't; he was crying. Then his mate's arms were around him, and he was pressed into his chest, and Zechariah joined in and laid his head on Damon's back.

"Little one," Kriston spoke softly to him, and Damon realized that it had been forever since his wolfe had called him that, "Do you really believe that I did that to you?"  
Damon shook his head, tears coming freely now.  
"Please don't take my litter away, Alpha, I'm sorry."  
"No, Damon." Kriston squeezed him tighter. "I'm sorry."  
"I didn't mean to lose anyone, I didn't mean to ruin it, can't you please just let them go? Let them go, please?"

Kriston flicked his ears back. Damon wasn't making any sense - hysteria. Kriston tried to calm him down, get him to breathe; made soothing noises and stroked his hair. Zechariah joined in, squeezing Damon's hand.

"Don't cry, Daydee. I promise I'll be OK. I can get mated and I'll be happy and then the uncles and I can live here with you."  
This just seemed to make Damon cry harder and Kriston realized that maybe his mate was under much greater stress than it had originally seemed. He motioned to Zechariah to come with him and together, they took Damon home.

* * *

Zechariah lounged on the wide couch across from Damon and Kriston's bed, flipping through wolfish books while his cousin's litter nursed noisily.  
"So what are we going to do for dinner, Daydee?"  
Damon glared at Kriston.  
" _We_ are doing nothing. You and I will dine here while Kriston begins working on extricating you from your...engagement."  
Kriston looked up from a transparent data sheet he was looking over.  
"Can't be done. Pact's made." he chewed idly on the end of a quill.  
"Well, unmake it." Damon hissed and the cub at his chest made a sound of distress. He quieted his voice and glared at Kriston, who leaned slightly back in his chair, and looked generally unconcerned.  
"Damon. Love. I have to discuss this information with the elders in an hour. Perhaps we could talk about this later, after Me'tanalith comes to collect Zechariah tonight."  
Damon's eyes filled with fire.  
"After what?"  
Kriston grinned around the quill in his mouth.  
"Only joking, Day."

From the crib beside the bed, one of the litter began to cry and a servant rushed in to pick him up. Day separated the cub he'd been holding, the last of the lot, from his chest and set him lovingly down beside his brothers. The servant, a young human, called for assistance and two others appeared to help him roll the crib back into the nursery.  
"We'll be in the sitting room, First Alpha Mate Damon."

Day nodded, let them leave before turning his attention back to Kriston.  
"I'm serious, Kriston. He's too young! He's got a whole life ahead of him to live!"  
Kriston sighed, set down the sheet, giving up altogether on being able to read in peace.

"And what would you have me do, Damon? Me'tanalith is one of my best fighters, most revered leaders and most successful generals. He is born and bred of Arem'mir; he adheres to our laws and customs wholeheartedly and he expects the same. He is aging now; after his performance in the last battle, to give him any less than a mate would be an insult. Should I insult my general and turn the favor of my legions? Perhaps, then, you would like to live an exile's existence with six cubs to raise in the woods alone?"

Zechariah was looking on with amused interest. Damon felt his face get hot.  
"I don't care how you handle it. I don't care what you promise him in exchange - "  
"Another of your cousins, perhaps? Pick one; give me a name and I'll see it done."  
Damon looked horrified.  
"Kriston - "  
"Give me a reasonable alternative, Day, and I'll consider the alteration."  
Zechariah looked anxiously at Damon. His cousin's eyes were dark and his anger was simmering just beneath the surface. His voice was low.  
"Kriston?" The wolfe raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment. "Haven't I lost enough family already?"

The wolfe's breath stuck in his throat - did Damon know? How could he? The panic passed. Of course. The others. There were others. Kriston blinked hard to clear his head. He stepped closer to Damon.  
"I love you, mate. Your family is my own. Zechariah will be safe with Me'tanalith. Of that, I am sure."

Damon shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. He glanced over at Zech, who was now enraptured with a picture book of Wolvish traditions.  
"He's so young, Kriston."  
The wolfe raised a hand to stroke his beta's face.  
"I know."  
Damon snapped his eyes back to his mate.  
"Give him a courtship."  
Kriston cocked his head.  
"I'm sorry?"  
"That's what it is; that's what you call it, isn't it? In the wolfish way? A time to gain the approval of friends, of family, of the intended. It's sacred, isn't it? Part of the process."  
"Things are different. Time is limited. There is a shortage of mates and many clamor for access." Kriston paused. "And there are other factors."  
"Oh? Like what?"  
Kriston looked mildly embarrassed.  
"Well, I promised him."  
"So Zechariah should suffer the indignity of a stolen mate because your mouth got the better of you." Kris made a sound in his throat a cross between a growl and a grunt. Damon pressed on. "I thought that wolfes weren't like that anymore - I thought that the urgency was over. Civilized, you told me, moved on from the old ways. You said you had a system for doing these things now, that it wouldn't ever be again like it was for me and Alexei."

Damon's voice was growing desperate. Kriston began to feel very sorry for his little mate. How tired the human must be, but still he fought for his kin. Well, Kriston decided, time to put a stop to it. With wolfish speed, he snatched both of Damon's wrists into one large hand, stilling his movements.

"Damon!" he leaned close, his voice lowered to a growl. "Zechariah goes to Me'tan. There is no further discussion of that."  
Damon narrowed his eyes and snatched one wrist away. Spurred on by his mate's domineering, he leaned in close to speak darkly to Kriston.  
"I don't know who you've mistaken me for, Alpha, but I am still the man whose blade nearly took your life in the forest. Do not forget that."  
Kriston looked hard at Damon.  
"Do I hear a threat in your voice as you speak to your alpha?"  
Damon would have bared his teeth if he'd been wolfish.  
"I'll repeat myself if that makes it clearer."

Kriston growled, low, which made Zechariah move to get to his feet. Damon raised a hand to hold him still. The wolfe stared into his mate's eyes.

"He gets a courtship. Two moons. No more."  
Damon felt relief wash through him.  
"Fine, wolfe. Two moons."  
"No more." Kriston repeated. Damon rolled his eyes and agreed.  
"No more."

* * *

Kriston couldn't seem to locate Me'tanalith before his meeting with the elders, so he toiled through that then went off to search for him in the training rooms where he spent most of his time. Sure enough, the wolfe was there, leading a group of younger soldiers in a shifting lesson that involved the complex use of weapons, claws and teeth. The corner of Kriston's mouth quirked up a bit; this lesson had been by far his hardest one to learn as a youth - how to shift mid-fight, control the bloodlust and urges well enough and strongly so as just to strike once, then return bipedal. He had suffered greatly under the strict old teacher he'd had, and although the old wolfe had now gone to stars, he still had the scar to remind him. Me'tanalith pricked his right ear towards the door and Kriston knew he'd been noticed. He stepped fully into the room. The seventeen youth, who had been well focused until then, broke formation almost immediately with surprise. He looked sternly at them.

"Maintain control of your mind. No distraction should cause such disarray. If we were in battle, I'd have led you all to your deaths just now."  
The young wolfes looked well admonished, returned to their positions. Me'tanalith nodded to them.  
"Again. From the beginning. Two on three, twice through."  
As the youth began their practice, Me'tanalith turned to Kriston and inclined his head.  
"You need me, my Alpha?"  
Kriston half-smiled.  
"Just for conversation, General. May we walk outside for a while?"  
Me'tanalith nodded, glancing once over his shoulder to ensure that his class was obedient.

Outside, they headed towards the south fields, walking in silence for a few moments until Kriston broke it.  
"This meeting is about Zechariah."  
Me'tanalith looked askance at his alpha with surprise before returning to his usual stoic demeanor.  
"My mate."  
"...yes."  
"Is he alright?"  
"Yes, he's fine."  
"He wasn't in his holding room this morning."  
"Right. Well, about that - "  
"Where is he?"  
"He was with me."

Me'tanalith stopped walking. Kriston felt his mouth get dry. He looked out over the snowy fields instead of at the wolfe in front of him, who was waiting patiently for explanations or expansions.

"As you know, Zechariah is my mate Damon's young cousin."  
Me'tanalith inclined his head in acknowledgment.  
"Damon is a bit concerned about...the speed of the bonding process."  
Me'tanalith didn't respond for a moment.  
"He does not want me to have him."  
"No, no, it's not that, no. It's just that -" Kriston sighed, scratched at one arm. "Honestly, Me'tan, you are my best warrior. You're a brilliant general, stellar commander, and I assure you you'll have a place on the elder's council. I am...sorry to have to ask you this, but my mate has claimed possession of Zechariah as his charge. He wants to have you court him."  
Me'tanalith lifted both eyebrows.

"Certainly, I understand if you feel it's unnecessary, and truth be told, I think I've perhaps indulged Damon a bit much to even allow his protests to get this far, but if you don't - "  
"I am already courting him."  
Kriston paused, frowned.  
"I'm sorry?"  
Me'tanalith shook his head.

"Zechariah is intended to be my mate. I am no young wolfe. I would never disrespect him, or the desires of his family. It is not our way on Arem'mir. He is young, and only recently introduced to our world. I do not wish to frighten or abuse him. Your mate is wise in this, First Alpha. Let him stay with you for the time being, and I will court him as I would a mate on Arem."  
Kriston looked with surprised relief at his friend, his general, his brother-in-arms.  
"I will be honored, Me'tanalith, to have you in my family line. Whatever the outcome," he said slowly, looking evenly at the wolfe, "of your courtship, I feel confident that will be the result."  
Me'tanalith cocked his head in interest.  
"I assure you it will not come to that, First Alpha Wolfe. But I thank you all the same."

* * *

Jara was interested in work, he told himself - that's all. His work schedule was up for review and he'd decided he wanted to do something different with his time. He liked food. He could work with food. Nothing wrong with that. Besides, didn't any citizen have a right to pursue whatever career path he wanted? Well, besides warrior. His alpha would never let him be a warrior. Garron was too traditional for that - betas are too important, he'd say, too precious to risk in silly battles. Especially now that the need was nowhere near so dire. Let us do the work, he'd say, let us care for you. Jara rolled his eyes. He knew in his heart that he was a better survivor than most wolfes he'd met, but that didn't seem to change the facts in his alpha's eyes.

Crap. He was at the kitchens already. Geez, hadn't he just left his room? Had to pay better attention, stop daydreaming so much. OK, he could do this - just walk in there, ask to speak to whoever was in charge, put in an interest form and bam! Be out of there in no time. That wolfe probably wasn't even here, anyway.

" - so if you're going to be on chef staff, you've got to - oh. Hello. One more, I see."  
OK. So he was here. And he was doing the orientation. That was sort of the opposite of what he'd expected, but if he turned and bolted now, it'd look too obvious. He had to fight down the urge anyway.  
"Erm, hi."  
"Come, sit with us."

The wolfe had that arrogant smile that Jara had seen before; his eyes, deep brown but ringed with silver, eyes which always seemed to be dancing with laughter and full of secrets, looked particularly bright now. His hair, curly and night-black, was tied back in a braid, slung casually over one broad shoulder. Jara remembered the tightness of those shoulders, the alluring scent of his skin...from when he'd run into him. What an embarrassing way to become acquainted. The wolfe was perched on a table, one foot on the bench attached, another dangling to the side. His thighs were flexed, and Jara briefly found the interplay of muscle in them fascinating. His skin was smooth and dark, hands - OK, enough. Jara blinked once, hard, and tried not to look at him. Thoughts like that were only going to get him in trouble.

"Right, you know what? I think I've actually - "  
"No, right place. Kitchen interest? Have a seat. Here, next to Huron. He's friendly enough, aren't you, Huron?"

Huron, a chirpy looking little human with olive skin and blue eyes nodded gleefully, clearly delighted at having been singled out for the wolfe's attention. Jara made a quiet sound of disgust in his throat. So it seemed he wasn't the only beta interested in the chef. Great. Now he got to feel like an idiot on top of it. He sighed. He should have taken his badi's advice, and had a quiet day in bed.

~:~

They started off with a safety intro, then it was a tour of the facilities and an overview of the equipment. A second wolfe took over this part, and Jara's wolfe lagged behind, bumping gently into Jara as he passed.  
"You taking notes, new one?"  
Jara narrowed his eyes. The wolfe's eyes twinkled in response.  
"You know, everything we say is very important here, new."  
Jara rolled his eyes.  
"It's Jara. And no, I'm not. I can remember on my own."  
"What was that first part?"  
"Jara. My name. It's Jara. Or Ryce."  
"OK." the wolfe grinned. "Nice to meet you, JaraOrRyce."

Jara rolled his eyes. Suddenly the wolfe was distracted again, dodging around him to talk to someone else.  
"Huron. Sweetheart. Let's be careful with that piece right, there, shall we? It's quite heavy and pretty easy to break."

Jara glanced over to see the wolfe gently easing something out of Huron's hands, his body wrapped entirely around the other beta's and both grinning. Jara rolled his eyes. This whole thing had become a mess of a morning.

"You paying attention, Jara?"  
he snapped his eyes up to the front, where the second wolfe - who introduced himself as Zo'am was dangling a utensil from his right hand, looking sternly at Jara.  
"Let's spend a bit more time getting acquainted with the equipment, and a bit less getting acquainted with Semmelin's antics. What's this, Jara?"  
Jara sighed. So that was the wolfe's name. Semmelin. Behind him, Semmelin released Huron and gave Zo' a nasty glare.  
"Fish knife, used for filets."  
Zo' put it down, smiling at Jara as he did so.   
"Very good. Moving on."

~:~

"That wasn't nice."  
Zo' rolled his eyes.  
"Don't give me the song and dance, Semmelin."  
"How did you know his name?"  
"He introduced himself earlier, when they all did. You'd know, too, if you hadn't been so wrapped up in flirting with the smartest beta on the planet."  
"I've asked you not to call him that, Zo."  
"Huron's an idiot."  
"I know - I like it that way."  
Zo' shook his head, went back to putting cutlery away in its proper places.  
"And you say I'm the cruel one."

Semmelin huffed.  
"You've no right to do what you're doing to the other one."  
Pots clattered as he stacked them in piles.  
"And what am I doing to him? All I did was call his name."  
"You make them all hopeless over you."  
Zo' laughed from beneath a cutting table.  
"Can't help what the moon has given me."  
Semmelin frowned, made a fist with his hand.  
"You know I wanted him. I saw him first."  
"Well, you seemed pretty preoccupied to me. Why not share the wealth? Besides, I've already asked him to shadow me at this night's meal. First squires to first on the field."  
Semmel's jaw dropped.  
"Clever ec'thanith."  
"Watch your mouth or I'll bed him tonight."  
Semmel's eyes got dark.  
"Don't you dare."  
Zo' smiled wolfishly, tossed a washing cloth over his shoulder.  
"I'll make sure I treat him well for you."  
Semmelin growled and Zo'amirac held his hands up, laughing.  
"Only joking, wolfe. Calm your nerves." he glanced at the chrono on the wall.  
"Come. Training time. Got to get prepped out for it."  
Zo' led the way out of the kitchen, and a sulky Semmelin lagged behind.

* * *

For dinner that night, Damon followed his cousin down into the long hallways to the upper level holding rooms. His family had been split into thirty different rooms, but they reconvened for the meal in his uncle's cell, eschewing the invitation of the wolfes to dine in the main hall. Zechariah was expected to join them. Damon was not. Damon's heart pounded in his chest as they passed the first archway. How much of their situation did they know? How much did they blame him? He tried to calm his heart as they passed the second archway and turned left. Two guards inclined their heads to him. He inclined back. Zechariah glanced at him, then kept on just a little while farther, passing door after door before stopping outside room #32. Zech raised his hand to knock, then turned to Damon.  
"I'm sure it'll be fine."  
Damon swallowed.  
"Go."

It wasn't as bad as he'd expected. It actually managed to be even worse. Everyone turned to look when the door opened. His family all smiled to see Zechariah, then hesitated, checked each other when they got to him. His cousin Ray, who he'd known like a brother, turned away from him. All around the room, conversations silenced, laughter stilled, movement shriveled up and died.  
"And who is this, Zechariah? Who is your guest?"

His uncle Tem, the eldest, the patriarch and commander, stepped forward as he spoke. Around the room, Damon saw faces; his cousins and half-fathers, friends, uncles. Family. Home. He wanted to bury his face and forget everything that had ever happened. Zechariah looked cautiously to his left, gauging Damon's reaction, then silently knelt before Tem. Damon dropped down as well.  
"Grandfather," he said softly, using the formal address, "Don't be unkind."  
Tem strolled up to his nephews.  
"Hello, Damon. How are you liking your new life?"  
Tem looked as if he expected an answer. Damon bowed his head.  
"I've been treated well, Grandfather."  
Damon bit his lip.  
"Yes, we can see that, Damon. Look at how nicely you've filled out. And your hair's grown thick, good sun-color is in your skin - I'd say you've been treated like a pampered whore."  
Damon had known it was going to come and had prepared himself for it, but it still stung.  
"There is no reward for treachery when this life is done."  
"Grandfather, I am sorry, I - "  
"There is no room for apology between us."  
Damon fell silent. Tem stood over him, hands clasped behind his back.  
"Your father is dead, Damon."  
Damon jerked a little at this news, but kept his head down. Tears forced their way forward from his eyes.  
"How many more of us is it in your heart to kill? How many more should die as you come to heel for your wolfe lover, Damon?"  
"Grandfather." Zechariah's voice was quiet.  
Tem stared down at Damon's bowed and braided head for a long, long minute.  
"Alyssa is dead, Damon."  
Damon's head snapped up.  
"What?"  
"The wolfes killed her."  
Confusion, then horror spread all over Damon's face. Tem's voice trembled, although his visage was stony.  
"Ask your wolfe, Damon, your precious wolfe. She bled out on your husband's back."  
Damon looked up, heart aching, feeling helpless to protest, to tell different, to make something unhappen that he wasn't sure...but certainly not Alyssa...

Damon didn't anticipate the blow; his head snapped sideways and he saw stars. Calmly, Tem reclasped his hands.  
"You can go, Damon. The wolfe is your family now."

* * *

Jara appeared in the kitchens a little before the evening meal, his hair pulled back into a neat braid, dressed and ready for work. The wolfe Semmelin greeted him in the hall, leaning faux-casually against the doorframe of one of the rear kitchen entrances.

"Oh, hey."  
Jara glanced to the side to be sure he wasn't talking to someone else. He smoothed his apron and gave a little wave.  
"Hi."  
"You ready to work?"  
Jara frowned for a second in confusion.  
"I thought Zoom was going to be teaching me."  
Semmelin's face looked strained.  
"He was indisposed. I'm taking over your training now. Come on, let's get started."  
Jara raised an eyebrow, but decided not to question his good fortune and followed the wolfe on into the kitchen, doing his best to avoid running into his back again. Inside, dozens of young wolfes and at least forty humans of various ages were rushing around, carrying pots, cleaning up messes, adjusting stoves and fires, and generally working hard to prepare the night meal for the pack.

Semmelin gave him a brief review of common tools and their places in the kitchen, and was just about to lead him over to the walk-in when a voice rang out above the clattering of pots and they both turned to see Zo'amirac standing in the doorway, a delighted-looking human at his side.

"Semmelin! Jara! Great to see you so busy! Look who I found at his home with nothing to do for the next few hours!"

Jara thought he saw Semmelin blanche a little, but he was sure it was just his imagination. Zo'amirac approached, Huron trailing behind, and the air in the room suddenly felt oddly tense. Jara glanced over the other human, whose shirt fit unnecessarily well and whose hair was excessively handsomely combed, and felt foolish for being here all over again. Semmelin was staring unblinking at his friend.  
"Not at all. You're right on time. I was just going to start with working in the walk-in."  
Zoom rubbed his hands together and his eyes lit up.  
"Excellent! Huron's been dying to get some new lessons, and you can show him inventory. You're very good at counting, aren't you, Huron?"  
Huron, possessor of the perfect curly hair and big blue eyes, nodded gleefully. Jara rubbed his scar.  
"Wonderful, and you won't even have to go higher than forty. So I'll take Jara over to the wash rooms and you can follow along after Semmel."  
Jara politely diverted his eyes as Huron stuck one hand coquettishly into the loops of Semmel's apron strings. Semmel glowered at Zo'amir. Zo'amir pretended not to notice.  
"Alright, well, we'll see you at the meal after." he took Jara's hand to lead him off. "Have fun! Teach well! Don't ever try to cross me or take what's mine again!"  
Semmel simmered, licked his teeth and turned to the sweet, dumb human to whom he was currently attached.  
"Alright, Huron, very well. Let's go get some boxes counted."

~:~

The wolfe had been close all night. Too close. Frighteningly close. Close enough to smell his woody scent, feel the brush of his tail against the back of Jara's knees and the pressure of the heat of his hands' touch. While showing Jara how to carefully handle the more delicate dessert glasses, he'd slipped his tail between Jara's legs, brushing ever-so-slightly at his inner thighs, at which point Jara had jumped and almost dropped one.

"Whoops." he'd said, so innocently, but the smile on his face had gone full wolfe. Jara kept his legs closed for the rest of the washing.

In addition to the tail swipes, Zoom had taken every opportunity to ask everything he could about who Jara was, where he'd come from, how he felt about living with wolfes, and subtle questions about his age and activity that indicated a clear curiosity about whether or not he was fertile. It had all been a bit intimidating, and even frightening at first, but the longer it began to go on, the less worrisome it seemed. Zoom was, Jara decided, simply a courageous flirt. Nothing more, nothing less, and he deserved no special attention because of it. He began to relax a little in the conversation, even bantering with Zoom a bit when he asked, flirtatiously, whether Jara thought dark hair was a sign of virility.

Once, when the wolfe was busy looking away, stacking wet dishes into crates to be moved to the dish room for drying and storage, Jara was able to get his first non-secretive look at him. The wolfe was tall, taller than Semmelin, well- built, if a bit thin for a wolfe, and raven-haired with grey eyes. Nothing about him particularly struck Jara as outstandingly attractive, but his unshakeable confidence and assured poise gave him an air of control that was both relaxing and exhilarating. Jara was mulling over this new possibility when what felt like half a cup of water hit him on the side of his face. He blinked twice in shock and realized Zo'amir was watching him mischievously.  
"Didn't your badi ever tell you not to stare?"

Jara, both amused and embarrassed, decided the best course of action would be to scoop as much of the dishwater as he could manage in two hands and get the wolfe wet right back. Zoom laughed and dodged the first splash, but not the second, or the third, and suddenly he dodged such that they were very close to each other and Jara felt his mouth taken up in a kiss.

He pulled back immediately, more out of shock than dislike, took four steps back, and put one hand to his mouth.  
"What - what are you doing?"  
Zoom smiled, that beautiful, dangerous wolfish smile again and stalked closer.  
"Would you like to try that again, little one?"  
Jara felt his cock stir, but good sense overruled it.  
"No. No, wait, hold on a minute."  
Zoom stopped where he was, obediently, and waited.  
"I just - I don't - I mean, I like Semmelin."  
Zoom shrugged.  
"You don't know us both yet. When you get a little closer, I assure you that will change." he resumed stalking.  
"Wait! No, wait, I mean - I - Zo'am, there are people watching."  
"Let them watch."  
Jara took another step back, his hands up in front of himself to ward off the wolfe.  
"Zoom, please - "  
"It's just a kiss, Jara." his voice was so firm, so gentle, and so sincere and calm that Jara felt himself relax immediately. The wolfe closed the gap between them. "It's just a kiss."

Jara nodded and Zo'am's mouth made quick contact with his. It was at that delightfully public moment that Huron appeared.   
"Zo'am?"  
Jara leapt backwards and turned to hide his face. He could feel himself reddening. Footsteps fell behind him, as Huron approached Zo'amir with a perfect mixture of shyness and eagerness that Jara knew he would look like a fool trying to imitate.  
"Semmelin says he's not sure how to work the mixers for the morning meal bread, but I'm supposed to work the next morning shift, and so I wondered if maybe you could show me?"

He blinked pretty eyes like the ocean up at Zo'amir. Jara rubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand. Zoom gritted his teeth for a half a second and half-bowed cordially to Huron.  
"It would be my pleasure. If you could just give us one moment - "  
but by the time he'd turned, Jara was gone, scampering off into the dish room with a crate and a worried look on his face. In his head, Zo'am swore.  
"Alright, nevermind. Come, dear Huron, follow me into the bread room, and let me teach you the ways of the mixing machine."

* * *

 **First Winter, Year Four (3rd Moon)**

"And what did you learn today, Zechariah?"  
Zech picked at his plate, pushed a few vegetables around with his fork.  
"Never tell a wolfe what we talk about in the baths."  
Alex kicked him under the table. Zechariah looked up, concerned.  
"What?! It's what you said! You said it was a rule."  
Garron furrowed his brow. Alex patted his hand and tried to look innocent.  
"He's young - he's just talking."

Zechariah pouted. He had been following Alexei around for four consecutive days now, and he was getting tired of it. Kriston had been busy with work, and Damon had begged and cried that he needed some time off, just a few days away from everyone and the litter. He'd said, not very subtly, Zech thought, that Alex keeping Zechariah occupied would really help him out. So, being a good friend and pack member, Alex had dutifully taken Zechariah in for a weeklong home visit, under the auspices of teaching him the ways of a ColdRiver beta.  
Garron did not seem pleased.

"I don't think you've taught him anything at all." he complained to Alex, stroking Malik's hair idly with one hand while the boy lay stretched out on his lap. "He still cannot dress himself in the proper wolfe robes, he doesn't know the days of festivals by heart, he doesn't appear to be able to speak calmly to anyone, I don't think he's eager to carry a lit, and he frequently forgets the appropriate forms of address to a wolfe of a far higher standing than he is." at this last bit, Garron eyed Zech strongly, then went on. "You haven't taught him any sort of skill that I can recognize - "  
"Not true! He taught me how to mix drinks."  
Alexei gave him a freezing glare and Zech immediately shut up.  
"He hasn't been harvesting, doesn't want to train for the clinic, and he burned my meat twice trying to cook it, which I didn't even ask him to do. I eat raw. Why is he always trying to cook my meat? Max is a much better beta than Zech is, and he's only thirteen. You're not doing poor Zechariah justice, I don't think."

Zechariah and Alex both looked appropriately put out. Max beamed.  
"It's an ongoing process, Garron. Zech is learning day by day. It takes time, you know, he can't just pick it all up at once. And it's not as if you would have ever noticed his progress anyway, with how often you've been out."  
Garron's ears pricked up, then back.  
"I am the Alpha of this pack, Alex, and in addition, I've been spending time with my sons."  
"Not the human ones."  
Garron's eyes glinted annoyance.  
"I'm sorry, love, but I've been preparing the cubs for training. It is essential that the wolfes who carry my name be recognized early on as good fighters. My honor is dependent on theirs. We've been under a strict regime. Perhaps you should consider the same."  
"Are you implying I am an unfit badi?"  
Garron rolled his eyes.  
"Kitten, please. I didn't mean that and you know it. I'm growing tired of this self-indulgent behavior."  
Alexei shrugged off the hand which went to his arm.  
"You never had any complaints about my behavior before."  
Garron's eyes darkened.  
"I remember a few."

Alex felt his stomach drop. The iodine. He lowered his voice.  
"Alpha, I apologized to you, and to the pack for what I'd done. I thought these things were past."  
Garron inclined his head slightly to tell him to let it go. Zechariah, Max, and Palermo were watching, rapt with attention, at the argument going on. Garron took a drink and set the chalice back down.  
"Well, your coyness and disobedience, though cute, were never off-putting before, as you weren't passing them along to four other innocent human beings who may one day have alphas of their own who are not so tolerant as I have been."  
Alex ignored the vaguely implied threat.  
"There's five human beings I'm teaching. Five! You don't even know how many betas we have in our house!"  
"The number is three, in actuality, four with Jara, and five only with Zechariah, who - where the hell is Jara?"  
They both stood up at the same time, Malik getting jostled awake and into Palermo's arms. Alex looked around frantically.  
"I don't know! He was here for morning meal - no...no, that was yesterday. I didn't see him in the afternoon that day, either..."  
Garron put his ears flat.  
"Mo! When was the last time we saw Jara?"  
Mo looked to his brother for confirmation.  
"A day and a half ago, Appa, and not since then."  
A lightning flash again, Garron was out of the dining hall and headed for the nearest information wall.

* * *

Jara, as it turned out, was fine. He was, in fact, on kitchen duty again, and had been for three consecutive meals now. Semmelin had planned his schedule, Jara suspected, to maximize the time they would have to spend together in the kitchens. He sighed. Since that first day, he hadn't had much time with Zo'am, and the wolfe didn't seem overeager to rectify this. He'd been seen once or twice with a few betas, going off into the summer preserves room which was rarely opened and even more rarely used, and so Jara had taken the hint and forgotten about their kiss.

Now Semmelin was becoming a problem. The wolfe had been cautious around him at first, during their first few meetings for a work session, and even a little reserved. But after the first couple of shifts, he'd really opened up and begun to pursue Jara as aggressively as the black-haired one originally had. He now found himself working the dish room with Semmelin for the night meal, stacking dry dishes to distribute and laying out wet dishes to dry.

Semmelin kept bumping into him, accidentally, he was sure, and the wolfe had already more than once slipped his tail - accidentally - under Jara's apron.

"Cut it out."  
"Cut what out?"  
Jara glared and the wolfe just looked innocent, took Jara's left hand up to his mouth and kissed it. Then, thoughtfully, he rubbed his thumb over the welted white scar there, on the underside of the human's wrist.  
"When will you tell me what these come from?"  
Jara frowned and pulled his hand back.  
"It was a long time ago."  
he turned back to his stacking.  
"I bet you remember."  
Jara shrugged.  
"Tell me."  
Jara rolled his eyes. Semmelin could be quite single-minded sometimes, and he whined like a child when he wanted answers.  
"Later."

Suddenly there was a heat and a pressure at his back and arms on either side of him, hands trapping his own against the crates. Semmelin took a quick lick at his neck, the rough texture of his tongue tickling Jara's skin there before suggesting, heavily, in Jara's ear,  
"Now."  
Then there was a growling and a pounce, a whoosh of air and Jara spun around to see his Alpha snarling on top of a wet-pantsed Semmelin.  
"Alpha, STOP!"  
Semmelin was yipping like a whelp.  
"Jara! Thank God, you're fine. We were worried! What are you doing back here?"  
Jara was just looking on, horrified, as Garron shifted back and forth in a rage atop a wolfe-shifted Semmelin.  
"GET ALPHA OFF OF HIM!!"

Alexei looked over the two wolfes, discerned his own, and pulled his tail. Garron snapped around, nipped twice at the air.  
"Shift!" Alex stomped at him, and he did so.  
"ALPHA LET GO OF HIM!!" Jara screamed.  
Garron refused, his fists still knotted in Semmelin's hair, but leaned away a little bit, just far enough to bite out the words:  
"If I ever see you touch Jara again, I swear I'll fight you to within an inch of your life." he let him go and Semmelin scampered, at full wolfe-speed, away and out of the room. Jara covered his face with his hands.  
"Are you OK, Jara?"  
Jara shook his head.  
"First Alpha Wolfe Garron, he wasn't going to hurt me. That's just Semmelin. He's OK. He's my friend."  
Garron cast one stony eye at Jara.  
"These are the behaviors you engage in with your friends?"  
Jara shook his head.  
"Semm is - he's - we've - he's been courting me."  
Twin looks of shock.  
"There are wolfes who do want to court me, you know, Alpha." Jara added, sullenly.  
Garron's face darkened even more.  
"And you spend time in the dish closet with all of them?"

Jara's face fell. His alpha really was mad. Why was he mad? He had just walked in at an inopportune moment...although Garron didn't seem to think it was so inopportune. In fact, he thought it was just about right. He thought Jara did this all the time. His Alpha thought Jara was a tral, a common tral.

"Alpha, I wasn't - I didn't -" Jara felt tears suddenly welling up in his eyes. "We were only playing." he finished lamely, the words not coming out at all like what he'd meant. "I didn't do anything."

Garron didn't speak, just glared and grabbed Jara by his arm and half-dragged him through the kitchens, out of the dining hall, and through the lifts and hallways to their quarters and his room.  
"And you'll stay there until I come to get you." Garron threw him down on the bed and stormed out. From the doorway, Jara heard his voice, "No beta of mine will grow up to behave like a whore."

Outside of the door, Alex was pacing, and he almost bumped into Garron as he exited Jara's room. His mate's expression was not a happy one; Alex dropped his gaze submissively to the floor.  
"I should punish you instead."  
Alex felt his heart beat faster.  
"Alpha, please...Jara's a really good kid. If he says it was nothing, I believe him."

Garron grunted, then pushed past Alex and indicated for his mate to follow him. Alex glanced once at the door, intending to go in and comfort Jara, but Garron cleared his throat and Alex decided he'd better follow.

~:~

"Well, that was exciting."  
Max looked at him and shrugged. Zech picked at his food some more. Geez, Max and Palermo were boring. He wished they would grow up a little faster.  
"So what'd you guys do today?"  
"School." was the mutual answer. No elaboration. Zechariah took a sip of his water, then quickly leaned over and drank the rest of Garron's wine. Palermo looked like he was going to say something, but then Max shook his head and he went silent. Zechariah rolled his eyes.

Palermo looked interestedly at him, glanced at Max, and then asked:  
"So what was it like living underground?"  
Zech shrugged, his mood suddenly dimming.  
"It was dark. And cold. And the food wasn't very good."  
"But you had your freedom there, weren't you?"  
Zechariah looked quickly at Palermo, then glanced around to be sure no wolfe had heard. He looked deeply into his wine, then back up at Palermo.  
"Freedom is not something you lose or gain, little brother. It's always yours, no matter who tells you different."

Malik, who was balanced quietly on Palermo's lap asked:  
"Did you have trees underground?"  
Zechariah laughed.  
"No. No trees underground, although sometimes we could see their roots, if our path was shallow and the roots ran deep enough. They look like trees, too, from the other side."  
Malik digested this.  
"I wouldn't want to live anywhere without trees, not even the underground."  
He went back to eating his food.

Zechariah sighed. He wished he could go look for Daniken. His cousin always knew how to change his mood. Talking about the underground had made him feel sullen, depressed and a little turned around. Free or not free? Home or a prison? He hated these questions. Suddenly, the din of conversation in the room felt oppressive.

"Max, Mo, I'll see you guys later, at home. I'm going to go for a little w-a-l-k."  
"I want to come!" Malik had learned at an early age how to spell.  
"No, Mali, you stay here this time. I'll take you on the next one. Besides, it's only going to be boring, I'm just going out to the courtyard and back. I'll see you in a little while, back at home, OK?"  
Malik looked crestfallen, but quietly said, "OK." and went back to eating Palermo's carrots.

* * *

Outside, the cold air felt fresh and beautiful. Zechariah took in great sucking breaths of it, closing his eyes to smell the smoke of the kitchen fires wafting out into the dark, pretending he was back underground, waking after sleep to his uncles and father making a meal. He opened his eyes and the illusion faded. Tears pricked at his throat. He wrapped his robes tighter around himself. Distantly, he heard the soft padding of bare footsteps. The scent attached to them was familiar.

"All alone out here, little one?"  
he turned to see Me'tanalith standing behind him, his face a mix of concern and amusement.  
"It just felt a little hot in there, that's all. How did you find me?"  
"You are my mate. I take care to always know your whereabouts."

Zechariah nodded and turned his back. It did not shock him. Sharing close quarters in the underground made it easy for everyone to know where everyone was at any moment. The luxury of escape and the space to distance oneself was something new to him. Me'tanalith stepped closer behind him.

"Are you thinking of home?"  
Zechariah shrugged and looked out at the bright night sky. Me'tan stepped up to stand beside him, looking out as well.  
"I think of home often, as well. Sometimes I imagine I can see it, on clear nights, when the stardust passes."  
Zechariah bit his lip.  
"How do you stand it? My family is leaving in a few days, and I - I'll be all alone here. I have Damon and Daniken staying as well, but mostly, it'll be just me, and I - how do you stand it?"  
Me'tanalith looked at him then, pity and love in his expression.  
"Being here, you mean?"  
"Being all alone."

Me'tan felt a surge of love for this little human, standing alone in a dark courtyard in the middle of the night, staring up at the sky and thinking of home. Not wanting to spoil the moment, but wanting to be sure he'd understand, he gently took Zechariah's hand.  
"You find ways not to be quite so alone. You make friends, start a family. Have a new life, one that helps to ease the pain when night comes and you remember what once was."  
Zechariah felt tears coming, squeezed Me'tanalith's hand to hide his embarrassment of them.

Long moments passed between them, Zechariah quietly growing colder and Me'tanalith sharing his heat in the space where they touched.  
"Everything changes, doesn't it, Metabaliff? Even the stars."  
Suddenly, Me'tanalith kissed him, quickly, just once, touching only his mouth.  
"Yes, Zechariah. Everything changes. Even the stars."  
Zechariah kissed him back. Searching brown eyes met grey.  
"Change me."

* * *

Me'tanalith led Zechariah down narrow empty hallways to his home, then through the quarters into a dark bedroom; in the slivers of moonlight, he was sure, the wolfe could see him just fine, but the darkness was disorienting to him. He plunked down when his knees hit the edge of the bed and tried to reorder himself. After a moment, his eyes adjusted and Me'tanalith appeared in outline before him; he realized the wolfe was staring at him. He rubbed one shoulder, felt a breeze.

"Zechariah."  
he looked up, as best he could, to meet the wolfe's gaze.  
"Once I knot..."  
Zech bit his lip.  
"I know."  
"Even before..."  
"I know."  
"Are you certain?"  
Zech swallowed.  
"Yes. I am."

Released from the gates now, Me'tanalith came towards him, knelt, put two hands heavily on his thighs and leaned up to kiss him. Zechariah tolerated it, for a minute, but then pushed him back.  
"Quick, OK? We have to make it quick."

There was a pause where Me'tanalith was still in his position before him, then he moved, smoothly, like a shadow through the darkness, and lifted Zech and placed them both in the center of the bed, then leaned back to look, thought better of it, and dragged Zechariah into a shaft of moonlight that was playing across the sheets. He kissed his little mate again, lifting him up to balance in his lap, his touches brisk but gentle as he helped Zechariah get his clothes off and stripped himself.

The first touch of skin on skin was powerful; Zechariah arched his back a little and felt a tingling skitter across his skin. Me'tanalith laid over him fully, his powerful hips between Zechariah's thighs. Zech thought of his cousin, his uncles, his father, and shut them all immediately out of his mind. For this, he wanted to be alone. Me'tan kissed him again, drew his attention back to the moment at hand. Something wet was rubbing against his inner thigh now, and Zechariah realized belatedly that it was the wolfe's dick, which was thick and wet now with his arousal. Zech's belly caught in his throat a little at the thought of it; he bit it down and put both hands on Me'tanalith's shoulders.

"Go easy on me, OK?"  
Me'tan nodded, then, with a sudden surge in movement, lifted Zechariah's hips so that his ass was set directly over Me'tanalith's slick cock. Zechariah twined his fingers together behind Me'tanalith's neck, the wolfe gave one short thrust, he was in, breaching. Zechariah yelped, stifled it in Me'tan's shoulder, and took a few breaths in.  
"Ohh. Ow."

Me'tanalith kissed his brow, then buried his face in Zechariah's neck. After a moment, the pain subsided. Zechariah poked him and Me'tanalith began to move, another thrust, going deeper still, raising Zechariah's hips with it. Zech moaned again and Me'tan stayed where he was, repeating the process until he was all the way in, buried in Zechariah as far as his mate would let him go. Zech's cock was semi-turgid, slipping sideways between them, a reminder of his little mate's need. Me'tanalith felt his own need growing, then, before he could warn Zech, he was expanding inside of him. He flipped his mate down so that Zechariah was lying on his back, and Me'tan towered above him, the two of them still connected, still paired together, Zechariah calm and only mussed a little, and Me'tanalith's breath coming in pants and hair falling down.

"Zechariah. Knot."  
In the small shaft of moonlight, Zechariah's eyes were quizzical at first; then understanding, and a flash of fear.  
"Just be still."

Zech nodded dutifully and almost held his breath as Me'tanalith struggled to limit himself until the knot could subside. He felt himself pulse, thrust just a little, just enough to ease the heat, and edged closer to the cusp; thinking was difficult, words slipping away from him and all sensation limiting to the tightness encasing his cock. He groaned against Zechariah's neck and let a little of his weight fall on him. To the side, Zechariah bit his lip and tried to wait. Me'tanalith began thrusting, hard at first until Zechariah yelped twice in pain, and then easy, shallow little humps that didn't scratch the itch, but did ease his discomfort. T

hen, just as suddenly as it had come, he felt himself falling, sliding, slipping away on a little disc of pleasure into the stars, and Zechariah was breathing in gulps of air in relief, and he felt himself growing smaller. He floated there for a minute on the headglow balloon, inflated and skin buzzing and the world quiet all around him. He was still hard, though, and Zechariah prodded him again to remind him what they were really there for.

The second cum was always less satisfying, Me'tanalith had thought, but then he caught a glimpse of Zechariah's face in the moonlight and the understanding came over him that he had his own mate, in his own bed, in his own right little perfect corner of the universe where no one could barge in and no clouds could ever cover the stars. He came harder than he had in his life; Zechariah wriggled uncomfortably at this, but Me'tanalith could tell he was trying hard to enjoy himself or at least pretend he was, even if he was only doing a passable job at it.

Afterwards, Me'tan laid for long moments on top of his mate, collapsed and breathing softly against Zechariah's skin, watching the subtle rise and fall of his beta's chest. The shadows of the moonlight moved.  
"Come on." Zechariah was rubbing his back. "I have to go."  
Suddenly, that idea seemed like the worst thing in the world. Me'tanalith growled. Zechariah shook his head.  
"Don't go all wolfe on me now. You promised."  
Me'tan made a little noise of dissatisfaction. Zechariah spoke gently to him.  
"Let me go, 'tabaliff."  
For some reason, that shook him out of it, and Me'tanalith released him, backed off, sat on his haunches and let him go out to the bathroom to get clean.

On his way back out, Me'tanalith caught his wrist as he headed to the door.  
"I will bond you in the spring, little one."  
Zechariah halfsmiled, nodded, and let himself out.

* * *

Damon and Kriston were sitting across from each other, staring at a meal together without the litter, when rom nowhere, Kriston produced a small, velvet black sack and pushed it across the table towards his mate. Damon pushed some things around with his fork, then flicked his eyes down to it, then up to his wolfe, then out, back towards the window. Kriston clenched his hands into fists under the table.

"I can't bring her back, Damon."  
Damon shook his head.  
"You didn't even try to save her."  
Kriston remembered his paws, aching, pounding across the ground. Snow flying up in drifts, stinging his eyes, blinding his way. Howling in the distance. A female, bleeding, with Damon's face.  
"I did try to save her, Day." Kriston reached out to touch his hand. Damon pulled it away, into his lap. Kriston retreated, looked out the window with him, his heart aching and full like every time it was when he knew he'd failed his pack. "But I was just too late."  
There was silence between them, stretching out beyond the room, filling the spaces between the falling flakes of what would be the last winter snow. Kriston looked down at his hands, up at his mate, then down again.  
"In the springtime..." he began, then swallowed, wanting his voice to sound strong, "things will be alright again."

* * *

The next morning, Zechariah woke up in pain, showing signs of his first change; he wanted to come home, but a lifetime of poor nutrition and little medical care made the doctors wary of letting him leave the infirmary. He stayed under observation. Me'tanalith came to see him while he was still asleep. Daniken came and sat with him when he woke up. His Uncle Tem came, late in the day.

Two days later, the rest of his family were helped to pack their things, and were sent away to LongTrees. Damon had asked that their Uncle Tem be allowed to stay.

By the time Zechariah was recovered and getting on the nurses' nerves, Kriston had gone into heat again, and Zech was instructed to stay with Alexei and Garron until it was through. The request was received with a mixture of happiness and trepidation, because although Zechariah was happy in his Alpha's home, he wasn't sure how he felt about more time with Alex and Garron, who had, for weeks now, been arguing incessantly - most recently over Garron's repeated implication that something untoward had happened between Zechariah and Me'tanalith which caused Zech's change.

Zechariah hadn't had much to say about this, but Alex had gotten very upset and began to sabotage the meat freezer, and Jara had begun to ask when he'd be able to go back to work, and Garron had very fiercely told him never, and by the time the two of them were back on speaking terms again, Zechariah had snuck out three nights in a row. Which Garron only found out because Palermo had made a tiny little comment which completely blew Zech's working-on-his-Russian cover. Which had made Garron declare that anyone who couldn't manage to keep themselves in their room between midnight meal and dawn wasn't welcome to come back. Alex had called him a tyrant and left, and somewhere in between all that, everybody forgot that Max had turned 13.

* * *

It had been almost two weeks since the Great Embarrassment, and First Alpha Mate Alex had finally been able to negotiate First Alpha Wolfe Garron for his release. Feeling lighter, humming quietly, Jara was making his way down to the library for his first day of work, a million and one things (his alpha's threatening looks not least among them) darting through his mind. Jara had insisted to Alex that he couldn't show his face in the kitchens again, and so Alex had first suggested the infirmary, but then Garron had growled something about iodine and it seemed like it was about to start another fight, so Jara said he'd rather spend his days working with the books instead. His Alpha seemed satisfied by that, and had let him them both off that morning with only a stern lecture.

He pushed open the heavy sliding doors, just enough for him to squeeze through, and, once released onto the other side, he took a full, deep breath of the heavy air. He'd always loved the library; ever since he'd come to live in this pack, as a young boy, he'd found his solace here. He could sit for hours, poring over books and images, touching replicates of the old Wolfish documents and teaching himself their languages. He'd browsed through the genealogies of his teachers, his school friends, and his Alpha; had even looked his own up once, but couldn't bring himself to open the file. Before he'd even considered it, he'd found himself submerged again in his memories. He'd tasted fire, felt the sting of smoke and the coldness of his mother's skin. He'd shaken his head clear and moved on.

Then there had been other things; school and friends and working in the fields, and then more school and some training and helping with the intake, then becoming a varon and Garron and Alexei and the litter. Then Semmel - Jara stopped short where he was walking. Semmelin was standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest and one leg casually slung over the other, leaning against a stone pillar.

"Didn't expect to see you here."  
the young wolfe grinned. Suddenly, his grin fell and he glanced behind Jara, his ears put back. "The alpha's not here, is he?"  
Jara shook his head, stepped back, his head dipping down to hide his eyes under his hair.  
"No, he's not. Sorry. Sorry about...all that. Everything. Sorry. I didn't - I mean, I mean, I'm really sorry, I didn't -"  
"It's OK. Really, Jara. It's OK."  
Semmelin rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.  
"I shouldn't have been - I mean, I'm sorry, too, is all. I probably made you look real bad in front of our Alpha and I wish I hadn't."  
Jara smiled a little, but still felt wary and didn't look up, and Semmelin was still not completely certain that Garron wasn't around and so he didn't look at Jara, and so they stood in embarrassed silence for a minute more before Jara spoke.  
"So you're working here now?"  
Semmelin nodded.  
"During times that I don't have to train. I...didn't want to go back to kitchen work again."  
Jara felt a pang of guilt and sympathy. It had been a pretty bad scene in the kitchens, but it had always seemed like Semmelin sincerely liked the work he did down there. He'd been teaching Jara, after all, so he must've been doing it for some time.  
Jara hated to feel like he'd been the impetus to separate Semmel from something he loved.   
"This is nice, though. The archives. Things are quiet, things are old. Things are sacred here. It gives me space to think." Semmelin looked meaningfully at Jara, tilting his head to meet the human's eyes. "I like it."  
Jara blinked up from under his bangs, pink tinting his face, trying to bite his lip to control his expression.   
"It's very nice."  
Semmelin smiled wolfishly.  
"Well. Seeing as, once again, we'll be working together, maybe you wouldn't mind it if I showed you around."

* * *

"Get him. Bonded. Now."  
Alex held up his hands helplessly.  
"How am I supposed to do that?"  
Garron narrowed his eyes.  
"Ask around. File a request. Hold interviews. I don't give a damn what you do, but handle it now."  
Alex was taken aback, but with Malik balanced on his lap and attuned to his every reaction like a miniature cardiograph, he tried not to express it. Garron, looking over his shoulder, noted the hesitation from his mate.

"Malik. Go play with your brothers."  
Mal shook his head, looked wide eyed at Garron, and hid his face in Alexei's robes. Garron gritted his teeth.  
"Now, Mali."  
Alex glanced anxiously up at Garron and prodded the boy gently.  
"Malik," he said quietly, "You go when your alpha tells you."  
Mali looked up into Alexei's eyes, then quietly hopped off of his lap and went reticently towards the door and down the hall. Garron looked after him.  
"This is how you teach him to respond to a command from his alpha?" Garron paced the ground. "This family is in disarray. Malik does not listen to me. Jara is...cavorting. Zechariah doesn't come home - three nights now! Max is demanding to be taken to the infirmary so they can induce his Change because he thinks he's old enough. What am I supposed to think about all this, Alexei?"  
Alex felt a weird feeling in his stomach. He hadn't seen his wolfe like this before, didn't understand it.  
"Garron, I -"  
"Our family is meant to be a paragon, a mirror in whose image the greatness of our pack is reflected."  
The words came out almost a growl. Alex crossed his arms over his chest, a protective gesture.  
"Garron - "  
"This cannot continue. This is a path of destruction. My pack senses the weakness already. Things must correct."

Alex had nothing to say in response to this statement. Garron suddenly stopped pacing, halting directly in front of Alex.  
"Bond him."  
"To who?"  
"Find someone! Find ten or so young wolfes of some stature and with a record of decent achievements and let them have at it."  
Alex stiffened.  
"That's not - "  
Garron sighed heavily.  
"Alexei, love, I am the alpha of this pack. There are hunts to be led. Our food stores are low from a long winter. We have a need to redesign our medical system and intake protocols. There are explorations to be made; we must expand our territory. My second is coming apart at the seams, his mate and litter are in poor health, and there is rumored to be a new influx of wolfes from Arem'mir coming in the spring. There are tensions to settle about the distribution of the recent humans to another pack. There are other packs to meet and arrange trade with. There are new territories to develop, and battles to be won. Please, please, please do not task me with finding Jara a mate."

Alex looked away guiltily. Garron's voice dropped to a calm, almost gentle tenor.  
"Are you happy here, with me, Alexei?"  
Alex shot his eyes up to his wolfe's face, the question so unexpected that it caught him by surprise. Garron's eyes searched his, and Alex dropped his gaze to the ground, dipped his head and nodded. His hair fell into his face.  
"Then help Jara find his happiness, too."

Alex bit his lip. There was a pause, then Garron exhaled.  
"And take Max and let them Change him. He'll be out of sorts for a few days, but it is easier on the younger ones; try to arrange it so he won't fall behind in his classes. Keep an eye on Zechariah. Me'tanalith is a wolfe of the old ways and probably feels entitled to lie with him, considering they are due to bond in the spring. Just tell him to keep the trysts to a minimum. Palermo needs your help with his Russian grammar, and Max is behind in his reading."  
Alex blinked up at his wolfe.   
"And please make it clear to Malik that I am his father, his alpha, and the Alpha of his pack. I know it does not come naturally to all humans, but he must understand his place in this world. My commands are to be obeyed. When I tell him to go, he goes."

Garron ran one hand across his hair, smoothing back the blonde pieces that had fallen free of his braid.  
"Alright, pup. I've got meetings and then I'm on a patrol shift until the night. Jara should be home before nine; tell him I'll beat him if he's not. Switch the servants over to the four-day schedule we talked about, and please remember to restock the meat locker. Is there anything else?"  
Garron paused long enough to allow Alex to blink one more time.  
"In that case, I love you madly, and I'll see you tonight."  
He brushed a rough kiss to Alex's cheek before disappearing in a flash of robe and tail out of the door. Alex stared after him for a minute, the silence of his absence ringing in the room. Turning his head to take in the empty room, he asked himself quietly,  
"And what about me?"

* * *

Kriston was moving briskly the second they met in the halls. Garron paced him, falling easily into step just ahead of the wolfe who was like a brother to him.

"What did you find out?"  
Kriston shook his head.  
"It's not good, but it's not bad either. His name is Gaunaren. He's full wolfe; a recent transplant from Arem'mir. Tells a lot of stories about the ancestors, speaks to the ranks about returning to the old ways. He complains about your laxity in disciplining your betas. There are whispers of assent among some of the population, it seems. My reconnaissance is not what it once was, but I suspect there are clusters of support around the idea of a revival of the old way of claiming. There are few mates to go around as it is, and nobody wants to wait. The transfer to LongTrees has been difficult on us, My Alpha."

Garron shook his head, thin lines of stress forming around his eyes.  
"It was a necessary compromise. Our people seem to have forgotten who fed us in the last bad storm. LongTrees has always been a friend to us, and they remain a necessary ally as we continue to expand."

They came to a corner and turned it, went into a smaller hallway separated from the main one by a glass door.  
"They keep Manitoba in check. That's always a plus." Kriston accorded.   
Garron scoffed.  
"That hideous old wolfe. Always on some scheme or the other. He barely feeds his people as it is; he wouldn't know what to do with even a hundred more."  
Kriston grinned.  
"I believe he is probably saying the same thing about you."  
Garron glanced at his friend.  
"I'm sure. But more pressing matters..."

They passed through a series of archways into the Alpha War Room they both shared. It was the most private and best secured place in the compound. Around the large mahogany table, they sat down.

"He's a black and silver. Very distinct. It seems to be helping his cause. The betas favor him. He's been suspected of entertaining several."  
Garron shook his head, picking up a quill and pad that he'd left there earlier.  
"There's a point in my favor. But there must be more than that."  
Kriston shrugged.  
"His grasp of the human underground is extensive. If we can assimilate him, I think he could be of immense help in further missions."  
Garron nodded.  
"Noted. Give me more."  
"He's young, only 37. Unmated, never bred."  
"Very good."  
"Top-class hunter. Slower on his studies, but quick in the field."  
"Right."  
"Fleet-footed, shorter than you, never known a pack on Erim outside of this one."  
Garron set everything down, sighed, and looked across the table to where his second-in-command was watching him.  
"Tell me honestly, Kriston. How much of a threat do you think this one is?"

Kriston considered for a moment, his brow knotting up. For a flash, Kriston lost control of his expression; Garron saw the fatigue, the pain, the immense effort it took for him to draw up the energy to fight again by his Alpha's side. All the troubles in his home were killing Kriston and his little mate. Then it was all gone, and the confidence Garron had grown accustomed to hearing was there instead.

"With me by your side? Not even a little. But if he gains momentum, any trouble he stirs up could be costly to settle down. Deal with him now, make it public and strong, and you'll save yourself a lot of headaches in the long run."

Garron nodded, taking this in. He licked his canines, flicking his teeth across the two sharp dips in his mouth.  
"Well," he said, suddenly feeling more tired than he'd thought he was, "it appears I have a challenger to handle, then."

* * *

In the bathing rooms, Alex was reclining quietly in a pool across from a chatty, bored-looking Zechariah.

"And then I said to him that he can't just take my clothes like that, you know? He thinks that just because we're in Wolfe land now, that clothes just grow from the ground! But I told him that those are special, and they're my clothes, and they're made of nice fabrics that were hard to find and Liff got them for me because he knows I like those kinds of things, but Daniken doesn't listen." Zechariah made a dismissive hand motion that splashed water around him. "He's just selfish."  
Alex nodded slowly.  
"Yes."  
"And Liff says that he doesn't mind, I can share, and he'll find me more fabric when he goes away next time but I don't think he should have to do that! I'm just going to tell Daniken that if he takes my stuff one more time, I'm going to tell Damon and then I'm going to take it all back. Besides, he won't even be able to fit my clothes soon."  
Alex nodded again.  
"Yes."  
"You're really quiet."

Alex opened his eyes and stared up at the glass ceiling and the sky above. He was over in a shadier area, but Zechariah had positioned himself right in the middle of the sunlight, as he and the other undergrounders were wont to do. His hair was dripping wet at the ends, where he kept dipping it in the water every time he sunk low to submerge his shoulders in the warmth. He exhaled slowly, thinking about all he was tasked to do.

"Alpha Wolfe Garron wants all the betas home by 2100 tonight. If not, he disciplines. I think he's serious this time."  
Zechariah shook his head.  
"I'm supposed to go for a walk with Liff."  
Alex raised one eyebrow.  
"You can...walk with him tomorrow. Your alpha wants you home tonight."  
Zech crossed his arms and pouted.  
"Why? He's not even going to be there."  
Alex felt surprisingly offended, and he sat fully up in the water to face Zech.  
"Zechariah. You are aware that as long as you live in this pack, Garron will be your alpha, and you will respect him and obey his commands."  
Zech looked a little surprised now, and deflated.  
"I didn't mean - "  
"Perhaps you should learn the ways of our household, Zechariah, before you speak again." Alex got up, lifting himself out of the water and hoisting up onto the edge of the pool. "Be at the night meal, then come home afterwards."  
Zechariah nodded and looked a little disconsolate, but Alex had no interest in comforting him.

Back in the sitting area, he picked up Malik, who was supposed to be in school but had seemed a little feverish that afternoon and was sent home, then spent the rest of the day tagging along after Alexei, a little creeping vine companion on his rounds.

Palermo and Kaeden were easy to handle - he spent about an hour helping each of them catch up and declared a new rule of Russian-only for Palermo in the afternoons to help him improve. By the end of the afternoon meal, the only one left to deal with was Jara. For the thousandth time, Alex wished that Garron were here, at home.

* * *

Kriston and Damon hadn't spoken much in the past few days. Kriston's heat had come, but was short and quickly abated, and with only an occasional midday visit to his mate, he was in operable condition.

Damon spent most of the morning alone, still, splitting his time between the litter and thinking about Alyssa. Zechariah ventured over for the noon meal, moody and complaining that he didn't want to live with Alex anymore, but Damon mostly ignored him and watched the window for signs of spring. Eventually Zechariah, bored of the non-conversation, wandered off to find more entertaining playmates.

Daniken came afterwards and sat with him for an hour until Kriston showed up, looking harried and Damon sent him out with the servants. Kriston took him in a rush, ran through the showers, kissed his cheek, and was gone again.

~:~

Zechariah found Jara in the rear of the archives, on his knees, clearing shelves.  
"Hey."  
Jara startled and almost hit his head, then backed out more carefully and looked up, surprised, at Zechariah.  
"Hi. What are you doing here?" he frowned a little. "Did something happen?"

Zech shook his head, idly dragging his finger across the stone engraving of the pillar beside him.  
"Just bored. Alexei's in a grumpy mood, and Liff is working and can't come out and play."  
Jara nodded.  
"First Alpha Mate Alexei." he corrected patiently, getting to his feet. "Well, I'm on a shift here until 7, but you're welcome to follow me if you're looking for something to do. I was going to check on the genealogies, see if anything needed sorting or had been updated. You can help, if you want. Maybe you're in there."

Zechariah wrinkled his nose, but agreed. They made a detour through the literature section, because Zechariah wanted to browse the Wolfish literature on mating, which made Jara blush horribly and refuse to look.  
Zechariah shrugged at him.  
"It's not embarrassing, Jara, it's just life. It's normal."  
"I didn't say it wasn't, I just - there are better things to look at."  
Jara had thought he was holding it together pretty well, but he couldn't resist casting a single, anxious glance over his shoulder. Zechariah did the math immediately.  
"You don't want someone to catch you reading this."  
Jara's eyes widened.  
"No, no, no, I just - "  
"Who is it?" Zechariah looked around, over his shoulder. "Some wolfe working here?"  
Jara shook his head.  
"No. It's not like - "  
"Is he older? Who would want to work in boring archives? I bet he's older."  
Jara crossed his arms over his chest.  
"I have to get back to work."  
Zechariah grinned, quite enjoying himself.   
"Tell me his name."  
"No. Give me the book."  
Zechariah pulled it just out of Jara's reach.  
"Come on, my life is boring! I want to know!"  
Jara made a confused face.  
"Boring? You were captured from the underground in a daring Wolfish raid, you were selected by the Alpha to join his pack, and now you're going to be mated to one of the most-admired warriors on the planet. How is that boring?"  
Zechariah shrugged. Jara reached for the book.  
"Tell me."

Jara gritted his teeth and lunged for the book, and he and Zechariah ended up grappling for it on the ground. A shadow fell over them.  
"Do I need to break this up?"

Zechariah startled and released his hold on the book and Jara immediately, which left the other human conveniently sprawled across the floor at Semmelin's feet, "Selected Illustrations of Mating Practices on the Northern Continent of Arem'mir" open in his lap. Semmelin frowned down at him, turned his head to read the title, and grinned, wolfishly.  
"You prefer the classics, I see."

Jara turned red again immediately and twisted around to snap at Zechariah, but the other human was already gone.

* * *

Garron waited patiently for his second to return to the Alpha Wolfe War Room. Kriston burst in the door shortly, his breath coming in pants.  
"That was quick."  
Kriston glared at him, annoyed.  
"I was trying to get back here to help you."  
Garron shrugged, grinning.  
"I never tell a wolfe to rush a meal."  
Kriston gave a low, warning growl and Garron tensed to it. Kriston waved him down.

"You know I'm irritable. Save your strength for Guanaren. When do you plan to do this?" he took up a seat at the wide table, adjacent to where Garron already had a sheet laid out and was quill-writing on one side of it.  
"Next week."  
"You want to wait so long? He's stirring quite a bit of trouble, you're aware?"  
Garron nodded.  
"I've considered it. But you are right - our challenge should be public, and brief. It must be over something simple - not an offense great enough to warrant real punishment, just a sound thrashing. I want to do it at the Spring Festival."  
Kriston put his ears back.  
"The Festival is not a time for fighting. The Moon won't like it. The wolfes won't like it. Festival should be a celebration - "  
"- Of birth. I know. I'm a Northerner, same as you are, Kriston. I don't want the Moon or my warriors mad at me either. Which is why I have a plan."  
Kriston furrowed his brow.  
"A plan. To trick the moon."  
"Not a trick! Just a positioning."  
"Alright. And how do you intend to position this challenge so as not to offend the ancestors and Her?"  
"In accordance with the traditions of the Festival, I intend to make the fight a display of dedication for my dear mate."

Kriston blinked at him.  
"How...do you intend to do that?"  
"Why, by luring Guanaren to him, of course."  
Kriston continued blinking. Garron finished the sentence he was writing and set the quill down on the table.  
"You said the wolfe has a weakness for comely betas. Alexei is most certainly one. He will draw him out, and I will defend him. I will gain the support of my pack and publicly settle the challenge, once and for all."

Kriston nodded slowly.  
"So what you're telling me is that, during the Moon's Springtime Festival, the most sacred of all times for the taking of betas and the siring of litters, you intend to use your own mate, Alexei, as some kind of wolfe-luring bait."  
Garron thought this over, mulling quietly the significance of his act. He looked up at Kriston and a wide, mischievous smile broke over his face.  
"Yes. Yes, I do."


	15. Popular Opinion

**Spring, Year Four (4th Moon)**

Weeks had passed. Kriston's heat had faded, Zechariah had worn out his welcome in Alexei's household, Malik was as precocious as ever, and the Spring Festival was only a few days away.

Jara was thoroughly enjoying his job in the archives. However, he wasn't enjoying the job today as thoroughly as he usually did, due mostly to the fact that his vare and his alpha had informed him that he would be expected to attend a dinner with them that evening. Some representatives from the GreatLake pack would be visiting for the Spring Festival, and Garron and Alexei were having a small banquet to introduce them to a few of ColdRiver's more prominent leaders.

Jara didn't really want to go, not when he knew that the primary reason he'd been invited was to put himself on display for a mate - or "be sociable", as First Alpha Mate Alexei had put it.

It wasn't that Jara didn't want a mate - he did, most desperately, actually. Many of his housemates, the other humans he'd grown up with in the pack's litter-homes, were by now promised to wolfes - one or two had even bonded already. Jara felt a bit left out, a little alone.

Him being the Alpha's varon didn't help - with such credentials, he should have had wolfes lining up down to the kitchens. But he didn't. Jara put a book in place with excessive force. It wasn't that he didn't try - he combed his hair, sometimes painted his eyes, and kept his skin rubbed with oils to make it soft, just as Second Alpha Mate Damon had shown him. It didn't seem that looks were the major problem. Jara exhaled. It was personality. He was shy - pathetically shy, he knew, but it was something he'd struggled with since childhood, and his vare hadn't exactly worked hard to make it go away.

First Alpha Mate Alexei was supposed to change him - to teach him manners, educate him, make him into a good beta, then take him out and show him off and at the end of the day, find him a mate. Alexei had not done much of that, yet Jara still found it difficult to be angry at him. It wasn't anything intentional - First Alpha Mate Alexei just didn't know better, and there was so much going on in the pack, and then there was the litter and everything... Jara supposed he'd just sort of gotten lost in the fray. So perhaps he should be happy to go to this banquet - it was exactly the sort of thing the varon of the Alpha Mate was supposed to be allowed to do, and maybe it would be a good time. Maybe First Alpha Wolfe Garron would be right, and there would be some suitable GreatLake wolfes. But maybe he didn't want a GreatLake wolfe; maybe he wanted one of their own.

Jara's face colored immediately upon thinking this thought, and his mind began replaying the moment that his Alpha had caught him in the dish room with Semmelin - perhaps the most mortifying moment of his life. Nothing had been going on, but Jara wondered what might have happened had his alpha not walked in just when he had...Jara decided to abandon this train of thought, and just then, as if hearing his name called, the wolfe in question appeared, walking towards him in the hall.  
Jara gave a wary smile and didn't meet his eyes. Semmel came over to him, stopped short, and gave a happy wag of his tail.

"Hey."  
Jara glanced up from underneath the hair which fell in his face.  
"Hi."  
Semmelin had obviously just come from training - he was wearing the characteristic white practice skeins of his age class, and his skin still glowed from the workout. His tail beat a jovial pattern against his leg, and he grinned down at Jara. An expectant silence passed between them. Jara cleared his throat.  
"Um. So, how was practice?"  
Semmelin beamed.  
"Excellent! I receive the honor of my position soon. Our leader was very impressed with my improvement over the month."

Jara cleared the hair out of his face and smiled up at Semmel.  
"See? So being out of the kitchen does you some good - you have more time to practice; you've gotten better."  
Semmel nodded and plunked down on the floor next to where Jara was sitting with a stack of books. His hand brushed against Jara's leg, but the human ignored it as an accident. Semmel moved into a cross-legged position and pulled the cord of his yava into his lap to play with the fringe. He grinned mischievously over at Jara.  
"I could get even better if we practiced more."  
Jara glanced up to be sure no one was around, then bent his head back down towards the books.  
"I'm not much of a challenge. I doubt I'd help you."  
Semmel laughed.  
"You've gotten better. Might be able to take down a 2-class by now."

Semmelin had, for the last two weeks, been doing something highly illegal. During the afternoon hours they worked together, the wolfe had been teaching Jara some Wolfish sparring techniques. Jara thoroughly enjoyed these lessons, even though Semmel warned him severely that they must be kept absolutely secret, and that Sem would never teach him to advance beyond a basic level. Jara had agreed, eager for the experience of learning something new and forbidden to humans. His human student had learned quickly, and between Semmelin's practice sessions and studying the Wolfish books on sparring which he'd found in the archives, Jara had become passably good at certain Wolfish fighting games.

"Want to spar a quick one right now?" Semmelin asked, sensing Jara's interest.  
"How quick?"  
"First down."  
Jara pretended to be contemplating this, then nodded and began to get to his feet excitedly.  
Semmelin beat him there, and moved fluidly into a familiar fighting position.  
"OK, now remember what I told you about unarmed combat - stay relaxed, stay focused, and use your opponent's weight against him. Try me."

Semmelin lunged for him, and Jara tried to remember the steps, but forgot them as Semmel made contact. Panic shot through him, and he reacted just so that he wouldn't lose, turning and putting weight into a body strike against Semmelin. In doing so, Jara managed to accidentally unbalance the wolfe as well as himself, and when Semmel stumbled, Jara began to go down towards the marble ground headfirst. Semmelin dived in underneath him, in yet another display of wolfish speed and reactivity, and kept his head from hitting the unforgiving ground.

Frightened and panting, Semmel rolled them both upright, then pulled Jara into a sitting position, just cradling him against his chest for a minute and heaving. Then, out of nowhere, apropos of nothing, the young wolfe leaned down and kissed Jara ferociously. Jara didn't resist at first - was just shocked and a little confused - but then suddenly remembered who he was and what he was doing, and that he had an Alpha who was always watching, and he shoved Semmelin away.

The wolfe released him and fell back, shook his head, looked apologetic, and then got up and took off running. Jara didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

* * *

"Hello, darling."  
Damon looked up at his wolfe's entrance, then quickly back down to the page open on the table, on which he was practicing his Russian script with a long quill.  
"Hello."  
Kriston paused in the doorway, then swept into the room and nuzzled Damon's neck. Damon shifted away.  
"Alpha, please. I'm working."  
Kriston stared at him for a moment.  
"Use my name."

Damon didn't respond and the wolfe just sighed, then moved away from him and took a seat across from Damon, folding his hands into in a neat pattern on the table.  
"I've been thinking."  
The only response was a slight raising of Damon's left eyebrow.  
"The lit is getting older. Their time to be surrendered comes soon."

Damon paused in his writing, then set his jaw and scribbled on, his quill pressing firmly down. Alex had spoken to him about this - the peculiarity in Wolfish culture that necessitated a common upbringing for almost every litter. Alex had refused to give up his natural born litter, and Damon would too. Thus far, Garron hadn't pressed the issue, but Damon knew his mate was different; Kriston was dedicated to the pack tradition and would be unlikely to cave so easily. But Damon had fought too hard and given up too much to get his litter back - there was no way he would be parted from them now.

Kriston, sitting across the table, kept silent and tracked these emotions dance across his human mate's face - a face that was so different now than it had been when they'd first met. There were lines in it now - little memories of sorrow that couldn't be blamed on a life underground. Little sorrows that were a result of knowing him. Kriston said a small prayer to the Moon to bring back the spirit of his mate and spoke again.  
"I've been thinking it may be our time to adopt."

Damon bent the tip of his quill on the page, then put it down. He looked up at his mate. Kriston swallowed nervously.  
"Perhaps some new blood might bring...it's the springtime, after all, a time for new beginnings, and maybe if we are more, we will not suffer so much from..." Kriston stopped, feeling daunted, but then thought of the Damon he once knew and felt revitalized. "Damon, love, I believe this is what you and I should do to begin to put our relationship and our family back together."

* * *

 **The First Day of the Spring Festival**

Zechariah and Daniken wandered in from the bathing rooms in time for the noonmeal, chatting loudly and waking Kriston and Damon, who had taken to the bedroom for a brief nap. Damon had gone, under duress, but had fallen asleep almost immediately encased in the comfort of a safe home and his mate's arms. They gathered themselves and left the bedroom to meet the others for the noon meal.

Garron, but not Alexei, met them in the Great Hall, and Damon observed, with great interest, that Zechariah's behavior was distinctly modified in the presence of the pack's Alpha. His attitude was more reserved, his mannerisms more deferential, and his chattiness was limited to quiet conversation with Daniken. Damon made a mental note to ask Alexei about this later.

Kriston and Garron were having a spirited discussion about the banquet that evening, which would mark the arrival of the GreatLake wolfes, as well as further preparations for the upcoming Spring Festival itself - Damon was only half-listening, being more interested in picking at his soup and wondering how his litter was. He tuned back in at the mention of mates; Garron was speaking.  
"Jara will be there tonight, at the banquet. He needs a mate. Immediately. It may be an opportunity for good relations with GreatLake."  
Kriston arched an eyebrow.  
"You don't believe that would be met with poor support? After all, the controversy has not settled over the size of the group we sent to LongTrees."  
Garron pondered this.  
"Perhaps. However, Jara is only one." Garron shrugged. "We will see. Either way, he attends. It will do him well to socialize in the traditional fashion."  
Kriston tilted his head as if considering this.  
"Perhaps Daniken should go as well. He is young, charming enough, and unclaimed."

Daniken looked up with interest. Damon lifted his eyes to meet Kriston's, but didn't voice a protest. Still, the wolfe seemed to read his mate's expression, because he reached out to cover Damon's hand with his own. Little lines formed around his mouth. Quietly, so that only his mate could hear, he whispered, "It is inevitable, Damon."  
Damon blinked at his wolfe, took his hand back, and turned back to his soup.

Daniken, still sustaining interest in the possibility of an outing, twisted his fork between his fingers and bounced excitedly in his seat.  
"Alpha? So if I go, do I get new clothes? Will there be hunna? Can Zechariah come as well?"  
Kriston turned from his mate's rebuff and smiled thinly at Daniken.  
"Yes, yes, and no, because Zechariah has a mate already. He'll probably want the opportunity to spend an evening alone with him."  
Garron lifted an eyebrow and finished his drink, then picked up a piece of half-raw meat to chew.  
"An interesting point, and it reminds me of another. When will the bonding take place for Me'tanalith and Zechariah? The bonding of such a prestigious Arem'mir wolfe to one of our betas should be a large event, and planned accordingly."  
Zechariah picked quietly at his meal and tried to look inconspicuous. Kriston shrugged.  
"I am certain he and the wolfe Me'tanalith have discussed this between them. Ask him."

"Zechariah?" Garron pressed, speaking directly to the human now, "When will your bonding occur?"  
Zechariah focused on his plate, gathering small bits of grain into little piles around his fork.  
"I - I don't - Tabaliff and I have not chosen a date yet, First Alpha."  
Garron frowned.  
"Unlike him not to plan things well in advance. Would you like a time, perhaps, in the early summertime? The sixth moon?" the wolfe pressed.  
Zechariah flushed a little.  
"I think my mate wanted us to bond in the springtime, Alpha."  
"My Wolfe Me'tanalith will not mind. The early summer will leave opportunity for things to settle in the pack, and for new food to come. You can be the first in the temple after the summer cleansing." Kriston answered. Zechariah nodded slowly, as if considering this.  
"I really think Liff wanted to be bonded as soon as possible, Alpha."  
Garron furrowed his brow, then shrugged this off and turned to Kriston.  
"The fifth moon, then." Garron said. "Last passing of the fifth moon. Still the springtime, but it will give Damon and Zechariah time to prepare."

Zechariah wouldn't meet anybody's eyes.  
"I think - um, perhaps earlier, Alpha, might be better."  
Garron's ears went back, his eyes narrowed, and his voice lowered dangerously.  
"Why so soon, Zechariah?"  
Zechariah glanced up at Damon, then Kriston, before lowering his eyes again and saying faux-casually while picking at his plate again,  
"Oh, um, that is mostly because I am already with."

* * *

The Great Hall looked beautiful, and Jara chose to focus on this because it meant he had a reprieve from focusing on all the people - especially the ones who were staring directly at him. He poked at his plate with his fork, but couldn't convince himself to be hungry enough to eat. He turned his attention to First Alpha Garron, who was conferring quietly with First Alpha Mate Alexei beside him at the table. They glanced at him and smiled. He poked his food one more time. Then Garron got up and anxiety bit farther into Jara's appetite. It was time.

The banquet was run in five two-hour long sections; the first two hours were a meal, followed by two hours of socializing and visiting one another's tables. The third section was another meal, followed by two hours of music and dramatic performances, and all closed up with a final early morning meal. Garron and Alexei, as well as their immediate guests, would be expected to stay the entire course. Currently, they were coming to the close of the first meal. Jara glanced anxiously at his Alpha, who was clearly preparing to make the announcement that the socialization hours were soon to begin. Jara glanced over his shoulder and caught the hungry gazes of four or five wolfes. So far, he'd been able to remain unmolested; no one was allowed to approach the Alpha's table uninvited during the first meal. But the rules changed during the Visiting Hours, which began in less than three minutes, and Jara feared that, between suitors after him and suitors after Daniken, his table was going to turn into a free-for-all.

First Alpha Mate Alexei did not appear to share the same worries. In fact, he had seemed less than inclined, when Jara had voiced his fears earlier, to oblige him by just canceling the entire banquet. And First Alpha Garron had been even less accommodating, also turning down Jara's request to simply take Daniken and pass him off as Jara. Now, they both seemed downright gleeful at what was going on. Jara glanced to his right. Daniken was sitting primly in his seat, wearing a tight maroon shirt and brown-and-gold robes that were casually hanging half-off his shoulder. He had spent most of the meal casting coquettish looks over his shoulder, and was now "innocently" twisting a curl of his hair around his finger and pretending not to notice the GreatLake wolfes who were looking.

Jara hadn't even thought to wear nearly such a revealing outfit. He'd chosen modestly cut, dark blue robes and the silver which Garron preferred for his cords to tie them. Afterwards, feeling generous, he'd allowed Daniken to braid back his hair, and First Alpha Mate Alexei had assured him that he looked gorgeous. If only Semmelin could see him now...

Jara jerked back to the present. First Alpha Garron was sitting down, looking quite pleased with himself. That could only mean one thing. It was -   
"Hello. May I introduce myself and my brother, Himmer? I am Sero, ascended wolfe of the GreatLake pack, and it is truly a pleasure to meet you."  
Sero reached out for a handshake, and Jara glanced helplessly at his Alpha before reciprocating. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Himmer gently talking to Daniken.   
Sero smiled at him, revealing a mouth of even, white teeth.  
"Perhaps we could take a walk outside; the air is - "  
"Jara stays." Garron, who Jara hadn't even known was listening, interrupted them. The Alpha's expression was light, but firm. He turned to Himmer. "Daniken, too."  
Sero immediately bowed his head politely.  
"Yes, Alpha."

Sero and Himmer chatted for some time before moving on, at which point they were immediately replaced with another pair. Jara sighed and started to pout, but First Alpha Mate Alexei, who had returned for a break from visiting other tables, pinched him under the table, and he quickly pulled himself together. After forty-five minutes of this, however, Jara was worn out. He excused himself from the table, where Garron was still holding court and Daniken was willingly entertaining the ridiculous amounts of attention from GreatLake wolfes. His Alpha looked up sharply at him when he rose.  
"Where are you going?"  
Jara indicated one of the outdoor patios with his head.  
"Just for a breath of fresh air."  
Garron raised an eyebrow. Jara rolled his eyes.  
"Alone, Alpha."  
Garron inclined his head.  
"Be quick."

~:~

Outside, the air was sweet and spiced with a coming summer's breeze. It had taken several minutes, but Jara had managed to navigate his way through the crowd to the door to the small summer patio, remaining mostly unmolested on the journey. Once outside, he trusted in the dim light of the nighttime to cloak him, and made his way to the small gazebo that stood a few hundred feet out from the main hall. Hoping he wouldn't stumble upon some couple in the midst of a tryst - it was the springtime, after all - he went inside. Luckily, it was empty, and so Jara was able to stretch his legs out on one of the benches provided, lean back, breathe in the cool/sweet springtime air, and try to catch glimpses of the stars through the spaces in the roof of the gazebo.

This peacefulness lasted all of seven minutes. Jara had just closed his eyes when all of a sudden, something cold and wet was pushed into his ear. He squealed, leapt up, and was met with the grinning face of Semmelin. Jara's eyes widened and he glanced back to the Great Hall, anxious of seeing his Alpha there.  
"Semmel!"  
Semmel laughed and sat beside him on the bench.  
"Sorry. Couldn't resist. Nose in the ear always does it for humans."  
Jara wondered how Semmelin had shifted so fast, then shifted back and had time to redress. A glance at his friend explained how - he simply hadn't. Jara flushed red and looked conspicuously in the opposite direction.  
"Please put some clothes on before the Alpha catches you out here."  
Semmel's face darkened a little, and he picked up the pile that he'd left pooled on the gazebo floor and clothed himself quickly.

"How is it in there? You having fun? Gathered millions of suitors yet?"  
Jara shrugged and rubbed his scar. Semmel studied him more seriously.  
"You OK?"  
Jara nodded.  
"Just a lot going on in there. I needed a break."  
Semmel watched him for a minute more, but no further information came.  
"OK. Well..." the young wolfe looked around them, over his shoulder, pricking his ears to check for the presence of any other people. "If you wanted to take a break..." he reached for Jara's hand, "We could go for a walk, if you want."

Jara looked towards the door that led back into the enthusiastic merriment of the Great Hall. Sound poured out towards them. A walk sounded pretty nice right about now. Would his alpha be mad? It wasn't as if he'd be wandering alone...just...alone with Semmelin. Which didn't seem like such a good idea. But...there were so many people, he probably wouldn't even be missed. And with Daniken's antics, it seemed unlikely that anyone would trouble to look for him. They'd probably just think he was off, skulking in a quiet corner somewhere. Garron had seen how upset he'd been by all the attention. Jara looked up at Semmelin once more. The wolfe's face was a mixture of worry, excitement, and the general glee that was his default setting. Semmel glanced up at the moon, then at Jara, a gentle smile revealing itself in the dim light of the gazebo. How could he say no to a face like that? Jara made up his mind. A walk it was.

* * *

Meanwhile, Zechariah and Me'tanalith were spending a quiet evening alone. Given the fact that he was already pregnant (and Damon had enunciated these words with such clear irritation that Zechariah felt stung), his cousin and Alpha had decided that it didn't much matter where he slept anymore.

Zech recalled the conversation with Damon; his cousin had been, and still was, so angry. "I thought I was doing you a favor." he'd snarled, "I thought I would be able to save you. But you fucked it up, Zechariah, and now you're here. Now you're stuck, just like the rest of us. I hope you like it." then he'd turned on his heel and stormed out. Daniken had hugged his shoulders then, rubbed his back and sat down on the bench with him.  
"It's OK," he comforted. "Daydee's just having a bad time right now. He's scared you'll end up like him. But we're different, aren't we, Zech? We'll be fine."

Me'tanalith grunted and pushed one black piece into place, effectively trapping Zechariah's players. Zech made a sound of surprise, then laughed.  
"Liff! You cheat! I didn't even see that."  
Me'tan frowned seriously.  
"A warrior does not cheat, Zechariah."  
Zechariah ignored this and instead studied the board, which was balanced on the bed between them. He furrowed his brow.  
"This isn't fair. I never win."  
Amusement flickered across the wolfe's face at this.  
"You will win after you have gained more experience, little one."  
Zechariah pouted resolutely.  
"I want to win now."  
Me'tanalith laughed and leaned across the board to kiss him, spilling black and white pieces everywhere.

When they broke, Zechariah pulled back, breathless, and looked down at the scattered players between them. He grinned.  
"You've made a mess of the game."  
Me'tanalith nodded.  
"Yes. And I intend to do the same to you. Come here."

Zechariah hesitated shyly for a moment, then boldly pushed the board to the side, making room to go to his mate.  
Together again, they touched bare skin - clothing had been discarded earlier on in the evening and never retrieved - and kissed again. Then Me'tanalith laid Zechariah down on his left side, curling up against his back and wrapping strong arms around him, and the human relaxed immediately into his mate's touch. Met'analith stroked him for a while, innocent touches that began on shoulders and arms, but quickly wandered to tease pert brown nipples and fondle Zechariah's half-hard cock. Me'tan slipped one leg between Zech's thighs, forcing them apart, and was able to reach his cock properly, squeezing gently before taking up a smooth, stroking rhythm that soon had his mate grinding himself into his wolfe's hand.

Then Me'tan's fingers were dipping backwards, into the crevice of slick wetness and heat that had welcomed him so eagerly their first time, and would every time thereafter. The wolfe grunted his pleasure and Zechariah lifted his right leg more, seeking better contact. Their movements were becoming more frantic now; Me'tanalith's slick wet cock rubbed with zeal against his mate's backside, and Zechariah thrust himself more eagerly onto the wolfe's strong hand.

With a growl, Me'tanalith decided he'd had enough, and in one fluid motion, removed his fingers and flipped Zechariah onto his back, jerking his thighs apart to settle in between them. Then Me'tanalith was in him, and it still stung a little each time, but Zechariah was brave and he was excited and he knew the promise of pleasure which lingered just over the crest of this pain, and so he kissed his mate and rode out whatever discomfort persisted. Me'tanalith tried to wait for him to be ready, but they had been teasing each other too long already, and so the wolfe's cock was throbbing with the need to thrust into his mate - to lay him down and claim him and finish inside of him. The lights were still up in the room, illuminating for Me'tanalith every wrinkle and angle of his mate's body. For the thousandth time since he'd met his little one, Me'tan thanked the moon for a mate so beautiful. He thrust into him - again and again, reminding himself to be gentle, but secretly not wanting to. Zechariah, for his part, responded to every thrust, throwing his own hips forward to meet his mate's, begging for more of his cock.

Then Me'tan felt the swelling closing in, the distinct knot speeding in from the horizon, his blood pounding inside of him, and so he tried to hold still for Zechariah, who had gone tense again, but in calming himself, he put his nose into the meeting of neck and shoulder on his little mate, and it was his undoing. Because there, in that crevice, that little place, Zechariah smelled so heady, so perfect and well-marked and owned that he felt his knot swell tighter, just before, with a cry, he and his knot released.

He tucked his head into the spot for a moment, just a moment, to recover and let his mate's discomfort from his knot ease. Then that part was done, and he was back on the secondary plane of orgasm, feeling again the slippery heat, the crawling rise of an impending finish. Zechariah was prepared again, too - his legs had lifted to squeeze around his mate's back, one heel tucked between the wolfe's buttocks urging him faster, harder, please, please, Liff, please. And Me'tan wanted him, wanted so badly to see his little mate come hard for him, that he complied with every order, angled himself and responded to every moan, every intake of breath, every squeeze of legs, until he felt Zechariah's spasm growing faster, more frantic. Once more, he tucked his nose into his little mate's neck, hoping to push himself over, knowing that his own orgasm often took Zechariah up with it, and then there was a new smell - sweet and vague, but there nonetheless, and Me'tanalith realized that it was his mate, already beginning to smell of the lit he carried. He came harder the second time than he had the first, slipping happily over the plateau, his mate's muscles clenching around him in their final ecstasy, his pleasure peaking to the sound of Zechariah crying out his name.

He didn't want to pull out afterwards, but after a few minutes, Zechariah pushed against his shoulder and shifted and Me'tan realized he was too sensitive to stay in. His cock slid out of his mate with a wet sound, and his fluid followed soon after it.  
"Oh, gross."  
Zechariah made a face and tried to get out of the bed. Me'tanalith caught him around the waist and pulled him back in, cooing contented noises against his mate's skin. Zechariah resisted a few more times, but eventually gave in, a little worn out himself, and content to lay satisfied in his wolfe's arms until morning light.

* * *

 **The Second Day of the Spring Festival**

It was the morning after the first banquet of the Spring Festival, and although it was still early, the compound was abuzz with action. Visiting wolfes went on tours, led by young wolfes soon to receive their honors, who eagerly imparted details of life in ColdRiver. Most of the humans were relegated to preparatory activities in the banquet rooms, temples, kitchen, and theatres. Most wolfes would be busy negotiating trade, comparing training practices and taking part in lessons and tournaments, and celebrating the springtime through mid-day trysts with their betas.

Alex had been up since sunrise, but somehow looked none the worse for the wear. He was putting weight back on, Jara noticed, since he'd begun to wean the lit, and was looking his fit self again. Damon looked ill by comparison. Feeding the lit took most of his energy, and struggling with Kriston took the rest. He looked gaunt, and tired.

Alex fanned the thin plastic pictures out on the bed for comparison. Damon, a restless infant in his arms, walked back and forth beside him.  
"Who are they?"  
"Potentials." Alex replied, seeming satisfied with himself. "The best ones. I picked them all last night. These are the first draw."  
Daniken came over to peer over Alex's shoulder with great interest, one of Damon's cubs in his arms.  
"Potentials? For me and Jara?"  
Alex nodded.  
"I figure you two can pick out five or so that you like, and then we'll vet the finalists."  
"I picked that one." Daniken said quickly, pointing to a dark-haired, pale-skinned wolfe that Jara vaguely recognized as being from GreatLake.  
"OK." Alex said, setting the sheet aside. "Who else?"  
Damon walked over and looked at the photo, then wrinkled his nose, clearly indicating what he thought of Daniken's taste.  
"No one else. I picked that one."  
Alex raised an eyebrow.  
"You're that sure?"  
Daniken nodded.

Alex looked to Damon for help.  
"Listen, why don't you pick a few others, Dani - just in case." Day offered. The infant in his arms had quieted, and was nestling against his shoulder.  
Daniken looked worried and bit his lip.  
"But...you said I could have anyone, right?"  
"Well, yes, but - "  
"And I already picked that one."  
Alex blinked, then spoke as if to a cub.  
"Yes, but maybe you should get to know him first, before committing to anything. You want to keep your options open for now, not get into anything too deeply. Pick another one."

Daniken sat down on the bed and put the picture in his lap, fiddling with the cub's blanket.  
"Oh. I didn't know that we...hmmmm."  
Damon stopped his pacing and he and Alexei looked up at Daniken at exactly the same time. Damon spoke first.  
"Hmm? Hmmm what?"  
Daniken flushed and didn't look up at them, choosing instead to focus on plaiting the end of one of his braids.  
"Um, I already picked him." there was a pause. "For my bondmate. Yesterday."  
Alex stared at him.  
"OK. So?"  
Daniken glanced up at Jara, then back to the picture.  
"So I already mated him."  
Damon closed his eyes.  
"No. No, no no. You didn't. Not after Zechariah."  
Daniken fiddled with the cord and looked thoroughly abashed.  
"I didn't mean to do it - it just happened."

Damon's eyes widened, and he turned his head up to stare at the ceiling for a full minute, taking time to wonder, very honestly, if this was the legacy his family was going to leave on this planet.

Daniken looked between Damon and Alex.  
"So that was - I mean, you look very mad. But Sero said it would be OK! He said you wouldn't mind, if we were going to bond. I guess I should have waited, huh?"

It was in that moment that Damon felt a kind of numb clarity wash over himself, and he decided two things: one, that as soon as he was done nursing the lit, he was going to seek himself out some much-deserved hunna, and two, that he was done trying to save everyone from themselves. Maybe, some things were just meant to be.

Alex just quietly collected the pictures, waiting for Damon to have some kind of violent reaction. Day opened his eyes, took a deep breath and said:  
"Fine."

Everyone looked up at Day in surprise. They had been expecting a lot of things - cursing, yelling, broken fingers. They hadn't been expecting "fine." Damon looked around at the people staring at him.  
"What? Fine. It's fine. I guess it's done now. Congratulations, Daniken. I wish you both much happiness."  
Alexei and Jara exchanged bewildered looks, but Daniken just gave a little shrug, as if to say 'Daydee can be so funny sometimes' and beamed at his cousin.  
"Thank you, Day!"  
Daniken handed the cub off to Alexei and rushed forward to hug his older relative.   
Day welcomed him into the arm that was not occupied by an infant. He patted Daniken's head affectionately.  
"But you're going to have to be the one to tell Kriston."  
Daniken's face paled, and Alex grinned as he packed up the rest of the photographs.

"Well, if that's all the scolding you're going to do, then maybe we can grab a snack before we head to the bathing rooms. We can get cleaned up and help downstairs. Perhaps we'll even run into this zealous new mate of yours, Dani."

Damon agreed that this should be the plan, and Daniken, elated at his cousin's acceptance of his mate, gladly accorded. Silently, Jara let out a breath of relief that once again, he had been forgotten. Jara had picked his mate last night, too, but now did not seem like the moment to bring that up. He'd save it for later. Maybe after dinner.

* * *

"Is that him?"  
Garron was speaking over his shoulder to Kriston, whose gaze followed his alpha's across the room. It was the second day of the Spring Festival, and Garron's best warriors were in the training yard, running through practices and exchanging techniques with the wolfes of GreatLake. Off in the distance, a group was sparring for a crowd. Guanaren was among them.  
Kriston nodded.  
"That's him, alright."

The group dispersed suddenly, and Garron noted that only two wolfes were left. Guanaren and a black-haired wolfe were grappling. The crowd cheered them on, and after a minutes, Garron and Kriston saw the black-haired wolfe hit the ground, hard. Winded, it took him too long to recover, and Guanaren was declared the winner.

"Shall we go and offer him our congratulations?" Kriston suggested wryly.  
"Let's." Garron replied.

They made their way across the field, coming to stand in front of Guanaren, who was laughing with a group his age. At Garron and Kriston's approach, all fell silent. Guanaren stopped smiling, but his eyes still held some amusement.  
Garron addressed him.  
"Your movements were impeccable, wolfe. It was a fight well won."  
Upon being directly addressed, Guanaren dropped his head in submission. His hair fell into his face, the curls striped with sweat and grime from the ground in places.  
"You honor me, First Alpha Wolfe Kriston."

Although his words were perfect, there was a teasing undercurrent in Guanaren's tone that Garron did not particularly like. He exchanged glances with Kriston, then flicked his eyes over Guanaren's companions, memorizing each one of their faces. He returned his attention to the wolfe in front of him, who still had not lifted his head.  
"Address me freely, wolfe...?"  
"Guanaren." one of the compatriots supplied, unbidden. "His name is Guana - " he didn't even finish his sentence before Kriston had him on the ground, his teeth snapping just above the wolfe's neck. Kriston snarled in his face, one hand around his throat. The wolfe's eyes were wide with fear, and he lay still.   
Garron looked down at the scene impassively.  
"Perhaps in the future, you will not speak out of turn." he said calmly. "My Second, release him."  
Kriston did so, but with clear reluctance. Guanaren was watching the scene with serious interest, and his brow folded in on itself as if he were thinking thoroughly about what was taking place.

Garron's voice brought his attention back forward.  
"Wolfe Guanaren. As I said, congratulations. You represented ColdRiver well, and I wish you the best in your future competitions. May they all go as well as this one did."  
Garron gave a bow of the head to Guanaren, who beamed at the open praise, but then quickly recovered his stoicism and hid his delight behind a placid face.  
"Thank you, First Alpha Wolfe Garron. And I apologize - " he glanced behind him at the wolfe who was only now getting up from the floor, and his eyes sparkled with amusement, "- for my companion."  
Garron shifted his eyes to the wolfe, then back to Guanaren.  
"All is well, wolfe. After all, who among us can be responsible for the actions of a few loyal friends?"  
Garron's words were innocent, but he held Guanaren's gaze just long enough for the threat to come through. He was gratified to see the younger wolfe swallow. Then he regained himself and the amusement returned to his eyes.  
"How true that is, First Alpha."  
Garron blinked at the young wolfe for a moment, then looked around the field disinterestedly.  
"Well. I wish you all the best in the rest of your day. I hope to see you all at the banquet tonight."

As he and Kriston walked away, Garron indicated to a set of guards with his right hand, and they rushed past him to apprehend the out of turn wolfe from earlier.  
"Making an example?" Kriston asked, watching them turn the group into upset.  
"Keeping up the law." Garron replied, and calmly kept on walking.

~:~

Kriston snuck off towards his rooms, going in search of his mate. It was high noon, after all, and the hour of the finest Spring Festival tradition - midday sex. Damon, unfortunately, was nowhere to be found, but the servant nurses assured him that his mate was probably in the baths. Kriston thanked them and set off to find him. In the end, Damon turned out to be in their single, private bath - Kriston guessed he had been wanting some solitude. Wanting to honor that, he knocked tentatively on the glass of the bathroom door.

"Mate?"  
Damon jumped and turned around, then calmed as he saw Kriston standing there.  
"Oh. Hey."  
It was a warmer welcome than he'd had in weeks, and Kriston was grateful for it.  
"I've been looking for you."

He took in his beta's appearance - Damon stood in the shower room, under the spray of the water, droplets of it sluicing down his body, dripping off his hair and making his skin glisten. When he dragged his eyes back up to Damon's face, his mate was watching him.  
"I bet you have."  
Kriston leaned against the doorway, toying with the idea of just going in fully clothed and claiming his mate. He decided against it; he was no longer a young wolfe, and he could restrain himself.  
"I missed you."

Damon turned to look at him, and Kriston noticed that his mate's face looked different somehow - fuller, lighter. His eyes were still the soulful, aching brown that had drawn him in two years ago, but the recent pain he'd grown accustomed to seeing on his mate's face seemed to be...not gone, but faded a little. Damon squeezed the sponge in his hands and water ran out across the floor.

"Come inside, then."  
Kriston did not need to be told twice. He undressed himself and entered the steamy room to be with his mate. Damon didn't resist the invasion in any way, just stepped back to allow the taller wolfe to join him under the spray. To Kriston's great surprise, under the water, Damon began to bathe him. His beta reached out with the sponge he'd been using and rubbed it against a bar of soap, sudsing up the material before drawing it across his wolfe's nude torso. He seemed focused on his work, and Kriston didn't dare breathe too deeply for fear of disturbing him. Damon washed his front first, taking care with his cock and the scar on his leg. When his mate moved to go around to his back, Kriston could no longer restrain himself; he seized Damon's wrist. Day looked up at his wolfe. The brown eyes were pleading.

"Is this forgiveness?" he asked, his voice rough with the longing for it. Damon blinked at him, pulled his wrist away, and Kriston buffeted himself for the stinging words his mate usually had prepared. Damon looked down at the sponge in his hand, at himself, and up at Kriston.  
"We should talk, maybe."

Kriston waited.  
"Daniken is mated."  
Kriston raised both eyebrows, but still waited. Damon seemed to be finding answers in the sponge he kept squeezing.  
"Daniken is mated. Zechariah is mated. My family are apart from me, even if they are alright. This is the part that doesn't hurt anymore."  
Damon made a motion when he said this, as if casting those worries to the floor. Kriston just kept waiting, listening to his little mate.  
"Alyssa is dead. My lit will be taken from me. I am a traitor. You lied to me." Damon looked up at the wolfe and put one hand over his own chest, tapping the place where his heart would be. "This is the part that still hurts."

Damon looked searchingly up at Kriston, wanting the wolfe to see his pain, to understand.  
"Regarding those things, it is difficult for me to forgive and let go of my pain."  
Kriston felt mute with emotion. He nodded.  
"I am sorry, mate. I am."  
Damon nodded and dropped his gaze to the sponge again. In the rush of the shower, Kriston couldn't tell if he'd been crying.  
"I know. I see that."   
Kriston hesitated.   
"I love you."  
Damon nodded again.  
"I love you, too."  
Damon turned the sponge over.  
"I cannot forget what you've done to me, Kriston. Or what I did to myself. But I know that those things are done. The past is dead. We live in the now."  
Kriston felt elation at hearing his mate say these things - was there hope for them after all?  
Damon took a deep breath.  
"You asked me if this is forgiveness, Alpha." Damon drew his fingers over the surface of the sponge, feeling its soft irregularity. "I suppose," he said softly, "It is."

* * *

 **The Third Day of the Spring Festival**

"Semm, I don't think we're supposed to be in here." Jara whispered worriedly to the young wolfe who was dragging him along by the hand.   
Semmelin scoffed.  
"If they didn't want us in here, they wouldn't have left it unlocked. Besides, it's interesting, and it's history. You like history, don't you?"

Jara pursed his lips and glanced over his shoulder again. He wanted - no, needed - private time with Semmelin, but he wasn't sure he wanted this to be it. He'd envisioned bringing this up somewhere romantic - maybe in the gazebo where they'd ended up last night, or by the creek. Not in a musty old temple that probably was full of spiders and who-knew-what else. Semmelin was jerking at the door to the temple, trying to pry it loose enough to be opened. The muscles in his back flexed repeatedly, apparent through his shirt, and Jara felt a little fire go through him. Yes, he was sure about this - he wanted Semmelin for a mate. In the proper way, of course, which perhaps meant he shouldn't be sneaking into darkened corners with him at all hours of the day, but there it was. He wanted Semmel for a mate. Now if only Semmelin felt the same way. Images of Semmelin with his hands around Hudson suddenly appeared in his head, unbidden, and he felt a dark cloud roll over his thoughts. Hudson may be pretty, but he was dumb as mud, and Semmelin wouldn't want somebody dumb, would he? Jara imagined himself saying that to the wolfe, trying to justify why he'd be a better mate after Semmelin had rejected him. The thought of rejection made his head swim. Semmelin was breathing heavily now, working hard on the rusted door. His shirt lifted just slightly, to reveal an expanse of skin, and Jara suddenly felt an overwhelming nervousness come over him.

"This is a bad idea. We should do this later. It's the Spring Festival - there's too many people around. Someone is bound to see us. I'm surprised no one saw us last night."  
A clanging was the only response as Semmelin finally managed to swing the heavy door open. He turned happily to Jara, his tail swinging excitedly behind him.  
"Come on. Go in, already!"  
Jara looked worriedly at Semmelin.  
"It's dark."  
Semmel looked into the stairwell.  
"Only a little."  
Jara frowned.  
"Then you go first."  
"Then who's going to close the door?"  
Jara bit his lip.  
"Can't we just go later? Let's go when it's at least not a Festival time. Anyway, I want to talk to you first."

Semmelin tilted his head in interest and stepped closer, his height and Jara's nerves making it feel as if the wolfe was looming over him. Jara could sense his heat, he was so close, and smell him, and -   
"What do you want to talk about?"  
Jara coughed.  
"Um. I, um..."  
the wolfe's eyes were gentle and expectant.   
"Is there something," he asked, leaning closer, "that you want to talk to me about?" Jara froze.  
"I - um, no." he looked away, and a sadness flickered over the young wolfe's eyes for just a minute, before he grinned and then sighed in exasperation.  
"Well, come on, then. It's not dark, it's not scary, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you. It's going to be fun, you'll see. Now hurry up and go in - my arms are getting tired."

"Go in where?" someone asked, and both Semmelin and Jara jerked around at the voice. Semmelin dropped the door he'd been holding - it clanged shut and the sound momentarily deafened them all. Zechariah put his hands over his ears.  
"Ow." he shook the ringing out of his head. "So. Where were you going?"  
"Nowhere." Jara answered quickly. Semmelin came to stand beside him, and Jara felt some brief comfort from having the wolfe close to him. Semmelin puffed his chest out a little, clearly hoping to intimidate Zechariah. It didn't seem to have the desired effect, as he continued to look suspiciously at both of them.  
"OK. Right. Well, anyway, everybody's looking for you, Jara! You have to sit the table with First Alpha Mate Alex for the next meal, because Daniken is in the infirmary and I don't want to sit alone, and especially not if I can't drink any hunna, which Liff says I can't until the lit is born. And Alpha Wolfe Kriston has some wolfes he wants you to meet, and he said to tell you that before we come down to the Hall, we should probably dress you and do something with your hair, because he really thinks it's past time you got mated and so maybe this could be it! Your chance! So let's go. I'm hungry."

Jara reddened a little during Zechariah's soliloquy, and so, strangely, did Semmelin.  
"Oh. OK." Jara managed through his blush. Daniken watched them both for a minute, then made an impatient gesture with his hand.  
"Well. Come on! It's nearly noonmeal and I'm already half-dead with starvation. I might as well have stayed in the underground if I knew I was going to get treated this way." he sniffed. Jara rolled his eyes, which made Semmelin smile.  
"OK. I'm coming now."   
Jara reached out to grasp one of Semmelin's hands. He squeezed it tight, then looked up at the wolfe.   
Semmelin raised one eyebrow, then inclined his head.  
"I'll find you later, Jara. It's OK. Go."  
Zechariah tilted his head curiously, then shrugged and turned to leave.

* * *

Garron finished inside of his mate, then groaned and rolled off of him.  
"Ahhh, Alexei. You'll be the death of me, kitten."  
Alex flipped over onto his stomach and grinned smugly to himself.  
"Happy death, though." he answered his mate. The wolfe smiled and raised himself up enough to rake his eyes down his beta's naked body.  
"Very happy." he dropped back down to lie and stare at the ceiling and enjoy his post-orgasmic high for a few more minutes.

Eventually, he roused enough to lean over and stroke some of Alexei's hair back from where it had slipped out of his braid into his face.   
"Will you come to the noonmeal, sweetheart?"  
Alex grunted. Garron kissed the side of his head.  
"Come. I have a surprise there for you."  
Alex made a slightly-more-interested grunt and Garron laughed.  
"I won't tell you what it is. But if you come with me to bathe and dress and feed the lit, then we can go down with the cubs and you can see it."

Alex considered this proposition for a minute, then lifted himself up onto his elbows and opened his eyes sleepily. He looked over at his wolfe, and for a moment, the green in those eyes was so piercing, so strikingly beautiful, that Garron thought about throwing the whole plan out and spending the rest of the day buried inside his mate as deep as he could go.

Then Alex blinked and looked away, breaking the spell, and Garron shook his head to clear it. The movement didn't escape Alex's notice, and Garron was soon stunned and delighted to find his mate's hand sliding between his legs to wrap firmly around his already-interested cock. The human grinned up at Garron, and the wolfe once again thanked the Moon for whatever magic she had that made the springtime so wonderful.

~:~

By the time they actually made it to the Great Hall, noonmeal had already begun, and so Garron saw his mate and the kids - Max, Mo, and Malik - as well as their cub counterparts - Michael, Kaeden, and Victor - directly to their table. Zechariah and Me'tanalith were already there, waiting impatiently with a distinctly satiated-looking Kriston and Damon, and a nervous-looking Jara who was being spoken to in low tones by an unfamiliar wolfe.

"Wondered when you might appear, My First." Kriston drawled. Garron grinned at him, and glanced at Damon.  
"My apologies. It's the springtime." he answered, and Kriston dipped his head in acknowledgment.

Farther down the table, servers arrived and began distributing meals to the Alpha and his family. The cubs began eating noisily, and Garron frowned over at them, then turned his attention back to the adults.  
"My love. I'll be back in moments - I've got to go and find someone with whom I have some business."   
Garron looked around distractedly, and Jara's head jerked up, but then went quickly back down to listen to the wolfe who was speaking to him. Kriston glanced over to check on the pair, and Garron scurried off in search of whoever he was in search of.

Alex dug into his meal and Damon and Kriston watched him amusedly.  
"Been wearing ourselves out, have we?" the wolfe commented, and Alex threw him a glare that had no malice in it.  
"It's the springtime." he replied around a mouthful of food, and Kriston laughed. Alex swallowed and indicated the wolfe speaking to Jara.  
"Who's this?"  
Kriston picked a piece of fruit off of his plate and chewed on it.  
"Tjomin. Best in his weight class for sparring. And he's brought down entire harts on his own in a hunt. Very good choice."  
Alex wasn't sure that either of those things were really determining characteristics when searching for a mate, but Kriston seemed confident about it. Jara looked OK, at least - not overly nervous, just at his usual level of discomfort. Down the table, Victor bit Malik, who promptly began to cry.   
"Victor!"  
"I didn't hurt him! He stole my bread!"  
Max quietly stepped in and separated the two, and Michael replaced Victor's missing bread with his own.  
Alex sighed and went back to his own food. Damon looked pointedly at his wolfe, who smiled encouragingly.  
"See? They practically take care of themselves."

The wolfe who had been speaking to Jara suddenly stood, kissed the human's hand, and stalked off. Kriston watched him go, then turned to Jara.  
"Didn't like him?"  
Jara shrugged.  
"I don't know. He talked about sparring the whole time. Nothing interesting."  
Kriston frowned and leaned forward a little.  
"Sparring is very interesting."

Jara glanced at Damon, who stepped in and directed his wolfe's attention back to himself.  
"Kriston." Damon started quietly. "I've been thinking."  
Kriston nodded.  
"Alright."  
"About cubs."  
Kriston looked cautiously at his mate, his voice lowered to match the human's tone.  
"Alright."  
"Maybe you're right."   
Kriston's expression changed to surprise.  
"About?"  
"Adopting. Maybe." A small grin began to spread across the wolfe's face. Damon fidgeted with his robes. "It - maybe it would be OK to do now."  
Kriston smiled broadly.  
"Wonderful, dear. Shall we talk about it at home this evening?"  
Damon tilted his head.  
"No, actually..." he met Kriston's eyes, "Let's talk about it now.  
The wolfe's expression became wary.  
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather - "  
"I don't want to give up my lit."

The table fell quiet. Kriston's expression became one of consternation. Alex, Zechariah, Jara, and the cubs watched the exchange with unmasked fascination. Only Me'tanalith gave any pretense of not paying attention.   
"Damon - "  
The human shook his head.  
"It's the only way, Kriston. It's the only way I'll do it."  
Kriston hesitated.  
"Damon, this is not our way. We do not - "  
"I do." Damon insisted. "Please, Alpha. Just let me keep them. I fought so hard for them - I can't give them up now."  
Kriston ground his jaw, clearly deliberating over what to do. The table was tense.  
"Damon, it would not be wise - "  
"I promise I will never ask you again. But please, this one litter. This one time."  
More silence, and now even Me'tanalith was openly engaged in the conversation.  
Damon ground his jaw.  
"Fine. This one litter, this one time."   
Damon inhaled a breath that was both shock and relief. Kriston shook his head.  
"But they will not hold rank, and they will attend Academy. They do not take my name, and they receive no preferential treatment that the others do not have."  
Damon nodded, caring about nothing beyond the fact that Kriston had said yes. Then Kriston looked squarely at his mate.  
"Now let this be the end of it."  
Damon agreed, eagerly. Then, quietly, so that only his mate could hear:  
"Thank you, Kriston."  
The wolfe merely flicked one ear in response.

"And is this what meals at the Alpha's table are like? Silent as the tombs?" an accented voice asked, amusedly, from behind Alexei's left shoulder. The table all started as if coming awake, and Alex spun around, his heart pounding. He knew that voice.  
"NIKOLAI!"  
His brother smiled and held his arms wide for Alex. Behind him, Garron stood looking rather pleased with himself. Alex threw himself into his brother's embrace, and the two squeezed each other tight for several minutes, each talking over the other in Russian. After a minute, Nik tried to pull away, but Alex wouldn't let him go.

"Alright, alright." Nikolai patted his brother's shoulder, trying to wrench free of his grasp. "Not too tightly - I'd like to be with again soon; don't ruin me."  
Alex laughed and turned to the table, introducing Nikolai to everyone. The cubs seemed particularly delighted, and Kaeden even asked if he'd brought presents. A scathing glare from Garron made him apologize. Alex turned back to his brother.  
"Nik! It's - " Alex felt tears, unfamiliar, welling up in his eyes. "It's been forever."  
Nikolai tsked and smiled.  
"Only a few years. I missed you terribly. How goes the Spring Festival?"  
Alex rolled his eyes.  
"Busy. Insane. I'll tell you about it. Have you eaten?"  
"Barely. Your wolfe disturbed my meal. Come, sit at my table. You haven't met my wolfe before. I'm sure he'll be excited - he's heard much about you."  
Alex cast an inquiring glance at Garron, who inclined his head.  
"I'd love to. Let's go."  
As they left, Garron caught his mate by the arm.  
"Do you like your surprise, kitten?"  
Alex came forward and kissed his wolfe.  
"I love it."  
Garron nodded.  
"I thought you would."

Garron released him, but it was apparent the wolfe wanted to say something more, so Alexei waited. Garron looked up at him. "I wanted to give this to you, darling. Because I wanted to show you that, even in the midst of the activities of my role as Alpha here, I am still your mate. I always think of you."

Alex kissed his wolfe heartily, suddenly feeling as if the world were all a bit too nice for him, and that he really ought to disappear off somewhere before it all went to bits. He followed Nikolai away.

Garron returned to an enraptured table - Me'tanalith, Zechariah, Jara, Kriston, Damon and kidsandcubs were all watching him intently. Between the drama of Damon's declaration and Alexei's reuniting with his brother, everyone was eager to see what new surprises the Spring would bring. When nothing was forthcoming, conversation resumed, everyone falling into quiet chatter amongst themselves.

Wine was served, and about halfway through the first glass, Jara, as if suddenly emboldened, stood up.  
"First Alpha Wolfe Garron," he said, clearing his throat. "I have something I'd like to tell you."

~:~

Garron growled at the little human across the table, while the rest of the table sat silently in their seats, watching the back-and-forth with wide eyes.

"I don't give a damn what you think you feel, Jara - you are a child and a human, and you will obey your Alpha!"  
Garron slammed one large fist down on the table beside his plate, rattling the silverware.

Jara jerked back and felt fear, real fear of his Alpha for this first time in his life. Garron, the wolfe who had rescued him twice and brought him into his family, had always seemed a distant, benevolent figure to him. Even the infamous Kitchen Incident had seemed more like overprotective fathering than real menace. But this was different.   
This was frightening. This was anger.

Jara bit his lip and stared at the ground. Just as powerful as the fear, rebellion welled up in him. My mother didn't die for nothing, the rebelliousness said, and she would have wanted me to live free.  
"Alpha, I want to court Semmelin!"  
Garron growled and cast a dark look at Damon.  
"I hope you and Alexei both understand your role in this."  
Damon wisely kept quiet.

Garron turned an icy stare on his varon. Jara swallowed, preparing to relent, but then a memory - a hope, really - popped up in his mind. There had been that pause today - that tension, wasn't there? A possibility, even if a slim one, that Semmelin loved him back...  
"But, First Alpha Wolfe Garron, we are good friends, Semm and I. And I think that if we courted, we might be more, and I just think - "  
Garron's teeth bared briefly before the wolfe got himself under control.  
"Semmelin is a child, Jara. He has not even the honor of his position. How could he court a beta?"  
Jara hesitated.  
"We can spend time together. Just get to know each other. Prepare to maybe be mates."  
Garron's expression said clearly that this was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard any part of.  
"Spend time together doing what?"  
Jara paused.  
"Maybe talking? And reading?"  
Garron tilted his head sharply.  
"Where? In the library?" he asked, accusingly, and Jara felt his face heat.  
"No, Alpha, I wasn't - "  
"Have you been spending time with this cub, Jara?"  
Jara's face reddened even more.  
"He's not a cub, Alpha, he's - "  
"He's a cub who turned tail and ran the last time I stopped him from attempting to compromise you." This stopped Jara short, and Garron pressed the weakness. "He wouldn't even stand to defend you. Do you really think he's ready to take on a mate? Or even to court one?"

Jara's cheeks burned with embarrassment for himself and for Semmelin. But that had been some time ago; Semm had grown since then, was so close to finishing his training, beginning apprenticeship. He had matured greatly since then; surely, Alpha Wolfe Garron had to see that. And then there had been the first night of the banquet, when they had gone out to the fields together.  
Semmelin had brought a bottle of hunna, and they had sat under the stars - separately, until Jara got cold, and then huddled together afterwards. Semmelin had kissed him then, had said again that Jara was beautiful, perfect. Had said that Jara was the only one he would want for a mate. Jara's heart warmed at the memory.

"He wants me for a mate, Alpha. And I want him."  
Garron's eyes narrowed, and he shook his head, utterly dismissing the idea.  
"You will not mate him. Further, you will not see him again. And if I find him in the library with you, I'll have him exiled."  
"Alpha - "  
"Jara!" the wolfe roared, teeth appearing at the edge of his mouth. "Obey."  
"But Alpha - "  
Garron was up, out of his seat faster than a human blink. Both fists on the table, he snarled at the insolent little varon. The table was silent, and tense.  
"Do you refuse to obey your Alpha, human?"  
Jara shivered a little at the threat in Garron's voice.

Before he could open his mouth, however, an unfamiliar voice cut in.  
"Perhaps I could be of some service, First Alpha Wolfe Garron."  
All eyes at the table shifted up to where the new interloper stood, bowing his head respectfully as he addressed the Alpha's table. Kriston stood, preparing to support his Alpha's response. He took in the identity of the new wolfe and cast a quick glance at Garron - too swift for Jara to read, but clearly heavy with meaning.  
Garron did not turn, but continued to stare down Jara.  
"Who speaks at my table uninvited, My Second?"  
Kriston glanced at his Alpha, then met the wolfe's eyes.  
"A visitor, My First." then, to Guanaren: "What service do you propose, wolfe?"  
The wolfe stepped closer. His hair, well brushed and braided, shone in the light of the banquet hall.   
"Perhaps a challenge would be in order, for your varon's...wolfe friend. A public defense, to show your young varon how unfit his friend would be. I would be more than happy to supply my services."  
Garron half-turned and snarled over his shoulder.  
"You suggest I need another wolfe to defend my varon?"  
Guanaren backpedaled hastily.  
"Of course not, Alpha. My apologies, Alpha. I simply offered - I fight well, Alpha. It is a small matter, not a dispute requiring your intervention. I can correct a cub who thinks he is prepared for a mate. It is a matter beneath your interposition, Alpha."

Kriston was burning holes in Garron's head now with the intensity of his looks, but the Alpha kept his attention resolutely focused on Jara. He hadn't even fully acknowledged the presence of the visitor yet. Abruptly, he turned to face the wolfe, and a strange mix of reactions flew across his face before settling on cautious annoyance.  
"Wolfe Guanaren. How delightful to see you again."  
Guanaren bowed shortly in polite acknowledgment.  
"Thank you, Alpha."  
Garron exchanged a look with Kriston.  
"Your extension of service is appreciated."  
Guanaren inclined his head again.  
"But I find myself curious - to what particular impetus might I attribute this sudden expression of fealty?"  
There was a tense silence, and Garron went on. "An attraction to my varon, perhaps?"  
Guanaren shook his head and dipped his chin.  
"It is only fealty, Alpha. I have no agenda."

Garron looked him over, clearly skeptical. Guanaren exhaled nervously and addressed Garron in a low voice.   
"If I might speak honestly, Alpha...I understand that there has been word of bad blood between us." Guanaren paused, clearly struggling with his words. "I do not wish to bring dissent to the Pack, Alpha. I do not wish to spark a rebellion in my new home. I do not wish to tear apart ColdRiver, and I do not wish to disrespect my Alpha."  
Garron cocked his head.  
"I assure you, wolfe, that no harm will come to this pack so long as I am Alpha of it. I will allow no destruction, either, from threats outside our walls..." here, he stood, rising to his full height so that he might look down on the brown-haired wolfe before him. "...or within."

Guanaren bowed his head, even more deferential, if that was possible.  
"I understand, Alpha. Allow me to do this for you, Alpha. Allow me to fight for your varon."  
After long, silent minutes, Garron lifted his eyes from the wolfe and met Kriston's gaze. It appeared to Jara that the two were communicating without words. Sudden panic welled up in Jara's mind - what if this wolfe fought Semmelin? Semm was so young, so inexperienced...and Alpha Garron was right, he still had no position, he was untried, he -   
"Agreed."

Jara's heart just about broke into a million pieces. What had he done? First Alpha Wolfe Garron was still communing with his Second, still not looking at Guanaren.   
"Settle the challenger, declare your fealty, and due respect to your Alpha will be paid. Perhaps then, the dissent you have caused will be healed."

With that, Garron turned as if to leave the table. Kriston followed him with his eyes, but made no move to leave. Instead, he stretched one arm around his mate and lifted his head to address the wolfe now standing, abandoned, by the table.  
"Wolfe. You are dismissed."  
With one curious glance at Jara, Guanaren turned and left.

~:~

The late afternoon was occupied with the usual spring activity - Me'tanalith and Zechariah vanished into their quarters, Kriston and Damon holed themselves up in their private bathing rooms, Daniken went to go hunt down his new mate, Kaz and Jeirio and all the other young mates were nowhere to be found, and even Nikolai was dragged off by his husband to their guest quarters - just for a few hours, he promised. All across the compound, doors were shut, curtains were drawn, and broom closets were inexplicably locked. The only one, it seemed, not celebrating the springtime was Semmelin. He kicked at a rock that had fallen too close to his path.

"This is torture, Zoom."  
Leaning back, balanced on his elbows on the table behind him, his friend smiled.  
"Your own fault."  
Semmelin cast him a cutting glare.  
"Is not."  
"I can help you, you know. If you want."  
Semmelin glared.  
"Do not want." he answered. Zo'amir shrugged carelessly, staring up into the sky.  
"Perhaps I'll mate him myself..." the black-haired wolfe mused. Semmelin growled, eliciting a laugh from his companion. "Oh, don't take me so seriously."  
"You were serious before."  
Zoom shrugged.  
"I'm young. My tastes change daily. Yours too, I bet. Besides, you know I'm in love with that delectable beta they call Iram. Would mount him today, if he'd let me."  
Semmelin raised an eyebrow.  
"Iram? Isn't he a bit..."  
Zoom laughed.  
"He's ideal for me. I like a beta that doesn't make me work too hard for a big reward." Semmelin laughed, and Zoom grinned at him. "Besides, I'm not the one who got busted by the Alpha. I don't have to be on my best behavior around the betas."  
Semmelin exhaled.  
"See, that's the problem. I'll never get back in his graces enough to have Jara. If you haven't forgotten it, I'm sure First Alpha Wolfe Garron hasn't."  
Zoom frowned at the sudden downturn in his friend's attitude. He sat up and leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands and his elbows on his knees. His pretty black tail fanned out behind him.  
"I'm sure it will be fine."  
Semm threw a skeptical look over his shoulder.  
"Fine for you to say."  
Zoom looked up to the sky for inspiration.  
"I'm sure things will work out."  
Semmelin sighed.  
"Maybe. I'm not even sure." the young wolfe kicked at a clump of leaves. "I just wish there was something I could do."

~:~

The group of wolfes gathered around him looked tense. They had every right to be - they could sense the change in their leader. And ever since the Alpha's dominance display earlier, things had been a little on edge.   
Guanaren sat down in the middle of the group. All eyes looked up, then back down. All except one.

"What business did you have with our poor excuse for an Alpha?"  
It was Silak, one of the northern wolfes speaking. His voice was low and threatening. Without even acknowledging he'd heard the question, Guanaren lunged, taking the offender down, over the table, knocking cups and food to the side. He stopped with his jaws slavering, open, around the dissenter's neck. The wolfe beneath him keened, and Guanaren held the position for another moment, then released him, snarling.  
"You will not disrespect your Alpha! And you will not disrespect me."   
The submissive wolfe held his gaze for one second more, before he turned his eyes down and away. Slowly, Guanaren relaxed and rose, brushing himself off, and looked around the group.  
"Are there any further questions?"  
Head shakes all around. Guanaren nodded.  
"Excellent. Then let's eat, shall we? There's work to be done after the meal. The seeds of spring festival won't sow themselves, will they, wolfes?"  
There was quiet assent, and Guanaren's wolfes silently sat down to eat. Quietly, unnoticed by anyone, the offending wolfe slunk away.

~:~

Alex used a cluster of strands of the wolfe's hair to tickle his ear.  
"Garron. Get up. We have guests in the Hall."

Garron grunted disagreeably and nuzzled against his mate's warm belly. Idly, he reached out to stroke it with one hand, surprised at how quickly the distention of carrying the litter had disappeared. He looked his mate over - Alex looked thinner than he had before, but the doctors had warned them that a litter of 5 would be difficult to nurse. Alex's energy and spare fat had been consumed, certainly, but his mate looked no worse for the wear. Still, Garron decided that he would pay closer attention. He kissed his mate's hip, causing a slight intake of breath and a stilling of Alex's hand in his hair.

"They can wait." Garron answered, sliding one hand up to urge Alex's legs apart.   
Alex acquiesced, and Garron was just about to set onto his prize when a frantic scratching and a series of thumps, followed by a desperate wail for Badi alerted them to the arrival of cubs at their door.   
Garron glanced sidelong at the door, then up at Alex, who grinned.  
"We have to answer them."  
Garron shook his head and dragged his tongue along the crease of Alex's hip.  
"No, we don't. I hardly ever got answered as a cub and I was fine."  
The wail turned into a full-bodied cry, accompanied by voices who, it seemed, were trying frantically to hush up the crier.  
"I think one of them might be hurt."  
Garron shook his head again and splayed his hands over Alex's thighs, pushing his nose against his mate's pubis, inhaling deeply.  
"Injury builds character. They'll be fine. Just give me ten minutes."

Alex laughed and pushed his wolfe's shoulders back to give himself space to wriggle free. Reaching over a disappointed Garron, he picked up the wolfe's robes and hastily wrapped himself.

Garron remained in bed, propping himself up on one elbow to watch his mate cross the room to open the door.  
"So after you see to the cubs, we should discuss what we plan to do about Jara." the wolfe called out.   
Alex turned around to reply, but before he could speak, he was overwhelmed by four screaming cubs, the smallest of whom seemed to have his face fixed in a permanent wail.

"Noooooo! He's my mate, and I'm taking him to Ba!"  
"But he's all of ours - he's our littermate, Mali!"  
"It doesn't make any sense for you to take him, Mali, I'm the oldest! You can't even talk right!"  
"Can too! BAAAADII!!!!"

Alex corrected himself - the wailing one was not a cub. It was Malik, who was sobbing and clinging desperately to a harried-looking Victor, who Alex belatedly realized was naked. Across the room, Garron had sat up alert on the bed, half-covered by the sheet. Malik continued to cry. Alex bent down to the youngest of the group.  
"Mali, what happened?!"  
Malik tried, valiantly, to explain, but the jumble of words did nothing to illuminate the situation to Alex. In his arms, Victor spontaneously shifted from human to animal, and Malik squealed desperately, jumping up and down and clinging even tighter to his fur. This, in turn, made Victor yelp and try to dislodge himself. Alex stuck his hand down to try to separate the two, looking at Kaeden, the older wolfe in the group, to beg an explanation. Kaeden just lashed his tail.  
"Mali didn't want me to speak." he stated, rather icily.   
Alex ignored this and turned to Palermo. Before the middle cub could answer, Victor, the injured party, piped up. He was focused past Alexei to where Garron had risen from the bed at his son's yelp and was crossing the room, a worried cast to his face.   
"Da, I think I - " before he could finish his sentence, his eyes rolled back and he shifted again. Before Malik could get hysterical, Alex snatched him up quickly, holding him tightly in his arms. The small grey pup that Victor had become lost its balance when it shifted and fell on its right leg, sparking a blood-curdling yowl. Victor suddenly shifted back, panting heavily, his eyes looking miserable and disoriented. "Da, I think I broke my arm."

~:~

At the end of it all, Victor's arm wasn't broken - just fractured badly. The five of them sat in the infirmary, waiting patiently for the doctors to finish checking the young patient out. Victor had been quite the brave pup throughout it all - not a single tear had fallen, although Malik had probably done enough crying for the both of them. After another twenty minutes of waiting, Victor emerged, with a bright orange cast in a sling and suppressants to keep him from shifting for the next four weeks. Malik fought to get down from his badi's arms when the cub entered, but rather than running over and clinging to him as he had before, he simply went quietly over to him and touched Victor's good arm.

"Are you OK?" he asked, his adorable nose wrinkling up with his frown.   
Victor nodded, placid as ever.  
"Yes. I'm OK."  
"Does it still hurt?"  
Victor shrugged with one shoulder.   
Malik sighed and stroked the cast, then frowned even more.  
"I hope I never break my arm."  
Victor shook his head.  
"Don't worry. I'm your mate. I won't let you get hurt."

Malik looked up at his littermate with heart-meltingly big brown eyes in the most admiring expression, and Alex found himself a bit affected by the scene. He snuck a glance at his wolfe; Garron was watching the pair with an peculiar expression.  
Finished assuring Malik, Victor exhaled and looked up at his appa.  
"Appa? Can we go now?"  
Garron tilted his head to look down at his son.  
"As soon as we hear from the doctors, cub."  
They were interrupted by a young nurse - Garron distantly recognized him - who entered, nervously, eyes downcast.  
"Um, First Alpha Wolfe Garron?" he asked, then glanced at Alex, then at the little wolfe with a cast on his arm, then focused intently on Garron's shoes. Garron nodded.  
"Yes?"  
"First Alpha Wolfe Kriston sent for you. You're needed in the south pasture? Something about a challenge?"

* * *

It was springtime, but the dirt was still cold. Jara stood outside in his bare feet, shivering despite the warmth of the air.  
He could barely see for all the grass and soil kicking up around the two tangled masses of fur, and he could barely hear for the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. He wanted to stop this, wanted it so badly he could taste it. He couldn't. That was not the way.

He felt a bit silly, really, standing out here being fought over. If the situation hadn't been so dangerous, the whole thing would have been funny. As it stood, it terrified him.

Things would be fine, Zechariah had assured him. It was just a matter of pride, nothing more. That thought gave Jara no comfort. Even men had killed over pride, and these were not even men. These were wolfes.

Guanaren was clearly the larger, but Semmelin was spry. He was running the older wolfe out, tiring him so that his lunges were off just slightly. When the wolfe snapped, Semmelin dodged, keeping him at bay, bouncing in circles around the ring. They had been going for some time now, and Guanaren was tiring; despite his vigor, he was no match for a lovestruck youth just beginning to train. But Guanaren still had strength, accuracy, and strategy on his side. Semmelin was going to lose.  
Jara wondered where his Alpha was, and hoped this all could stop when he arrived.

How had it even begun? With a look, one stupid look and his stupid crush and his insistence that he wanted to work in the kitchens, when even First Mate Alexei had said -

A heavy slam to the ground silenced his thoughts. The wolfe Semmelin shook his head and rose again, bleeding from his left shoulder. Jara's heart pounded. Why wasn't this stopped?

Then, out of nowhere, a blur of black, all snarls and white teeth, leapt into the fray. Startled, both Semmelin and Guanaren briefly shifted human again - Jara caught a glimpse of confused face before the black wolfe lunged and everything went all animal again.

Now the crowd watching was tense, whispering, and anxious. Who was the new wolfe? Where had he come from? Jara was quite curious himself. There was a gasp from the crowd and Semmelin went spiraling up and out, twisting like a leaf in the breeze before he plummeted straight onto the hard ground. He yelped once and didn't move. The other wolfes were still fighting.   
Jara saw the fall and for an instant, his feet went icy and his hands froze. His lips were blue and all he could see ahead of him was white, white white fog.

He was back in the snowstorm, moving forward. Don't stop. Stopping is death. Don't retreat. Retreat is death.   
He had no memory of breaking the circle or crossing the grass, only became aware again when he was on his knees and Semmelin's head was cradled in his lap.  
Eyes opened to see him, but they were unfocused.  
In the circle of soil behind him, the fight went on.

Semmelin tried to look at Jara, frowned when he failed, and squeezed his eyes shut instead. He swallowed and tried to speak, but his voice was scratchy from the shift.  
"I'm sorry." he managed. "I tried very hard."  
Jara nodded and rubbed some of the blood away from around Semmelin's eye with the corner of one sleeve.  
"I know."  
A warm hand fell on his shoulder.  
"Jara? Semmelin's alright, but we're going to take it from here, OK?"  
Jara nodded at the medics.  
"OK. Are you taking him to the infirmary?"  
The medic, a young wolfe in the simple clothing of a healer-in-training, nodded.  
"Yep. We'll check him out and he'll get a bed. He mostly just needs to rest."  
Jara squeezed Semmelin's hand, but the wolfe was either unconscious or pretending to be. The other medic, a human in nursing clothes, was already cleaning some of the blood on his arms away. The wolfe medic nudged him.  
"He'll be fine. Why don't you go and watch the fight?"

Because it was crazy? Because it was barbaric? Because the only person he wanted to win was right here? Jara wasn't quite sure how to answer that, so he just shrugged. The wolfe medic looked surprised.  
"Aren't you the least bit curious who wins the fight for you?"

The wolfe made an excellent point. Jara looked back over his shoulder to see how the match was progressing, and noticed a group of familiar shapes approaching from a distance. First Alpha Wolfe Garron. With one more squeeze of Semmelin's hand, he got to his feet and went to go greet his alpha.

~:~

"My First! I wondered when you'd arrive. Things have become complicated."  
Garron signaled to Alex to go towards where Damon was standing with Zechariah in the crowd; the cubs and children followed him. Garron turned back to Kriston.  
"Complicated how?"  
"Semmelin's lost the fight."  
Garron frowned.  
"But the fight is still going on."  
"Exactly! Another wolfe dove in. I believe he was unaware of your arrangement with Guanaren. I believe he thinks he's sparring for Jara."

Garron did everything in his power to keep the worry off of his face. This situation had become very complicated. After a fight over a claim to a mate, with lust and power and rage running thick in their blood, his kind were not at their best. They became more animal than wolfe. It was an experience he'd rather not expose Jara to.   
"Where is Jara now?"  
Kriston pointed across the field.  
"I've already assigned two wolfes to guard him."  
Garron spotted immediately which ones - two of his largest from the surveillance divisions.  
"Get him out of here."  
Kriston looked sadly at his alpha.  
"My First, you know - "  
"Get. Jara. Out."

Inside the ring, the wolves had broken apart and were circling each other. The black and silver wolfe Guanaren was panting, pawing at the dirt to buy himself time. Garron began untying the belt at his waist, then shrugged out of his outer robe just in time for Kriston to realize exactly what was going on.  
"My First, I can't let you do this."  
Garron ignored him and continued stripping.  
"Guanaren is tired. He won't continue this. Who is the other wolfe?"  
Kriston shook his head.  
"Garron. You'll make it worse than it is."  
"I asked you, My Second," Garron began, putting all of his alpha power into the question, "Who is the other wolfe?"  
Kriston was silent.  
"WHO is the other wolfe, Second?!"  
Kriston shrugged helplessly.  
"We don't know, Alpha."

If Garron had been a weaker alpha, he would have felt sick with concern. Instead, he felt angry. He turned to face the ring and prepared to shift, but just as the first tingling began to overtake him, another surge of energy came into the crowd as yet a fourth challenger charged headlong into the ring. He was man just long enough for Kriston to recognize him as Tjomin, best at sparring in his weight class. He reflected briefly on the significance of this fact before Garron's voice drew him out of it.

"What in the hell IS this?!"  
Kriston stared as yet a fourth wolfe joined into the fight. Now there was a knot of fur, grey-brown and black and slate colored, all mixing together in an inextricable ball of fur and teeth.  
"Well." he said, slowly, answering his First, "Jara's very popular."

~:~

"What's going on?!"  
Alex was standing between Damon and a pale-faced Jara, watching the match with rapt attention.  
Damon had a grim look on his face.  
"That young wolfe was fighting Semm off to please Garron. The whole thing was planned, but now two other have joined in unexpectedly. We don't know who they are, but it looks like, one way or another, Jara's going home with a mate tonight."

~:~

Across the field, Jara was watching the fight in helpless bewilderment. He'd had no idea... Jara bit at what was left of his fingernails and drew his robes more tightly around himself. There was no way this was happening to him. It had to be a mistake. There must be some other Jara they were all fighting about. And to know that he would gain a mate this way...all while Semmelin lay injured in the infirm....it was too much.

All at once, the noise of the crowd changed as one wolfe was cast out of the ring and landed, injured, on his side in the grass. Jara's heart caught in his throat - who was it? The fur was grey, tail black...an unfamiliar. It must be the second interloper. Guanaren and Tjomin were still in the ring. The remaining two wolfes had separated, and the browner one was breathing heavily, moving slowly around the ring, pawing at the dirt. That must be Guanaren, Jara guessed.

~:~

"What do you want to do, my Alpha?"  
Kriston was waiting, tense, beside Garron. The wolfe was standing the cool air at the side of the ring, his muscles taut and prepared to spring into action. He was staring out into the distance, his mind only halfway on the fight. Speaking earnestly, from his very Wolfish soul, he answered.  
"I want to fight my challenger." he turned to look at his Second. "And it appears the Moon has favored us on this day. I no longer need to create a situation to settle the conflict. The opportunity has presented itself."  
Kriston tilted his head.  
"A fair fight, my First? Guanaren is tired. You will appear weak." Kriston frowned. "The Alpha must never be the last wolfe to join a fight."

Garron frowned also, matching his companion's expression. They both looked towards the ring again. The brown wolfe's back was dipping, his paws scrabbling fur purchase on the ground. He was panting, his energy waned. Yet he stood.  
Garron was duly impressed. It was amazing the wolfe had lasted this long. To fight three wolfes and remain standing was no small feat, not in a contest for a mate. Guanaren might be more of a challenge than Garron had first anticipated. This troubled the Alpha greatly, and he said so to Kriston.

"And the longer the fight goes on, the more legendary he becomes. The last thing I want is for his followers to turn this into some sort of...an incident."  
Kriston ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it down where it had been raised by the wind.  
"There is little time to decide, my First. The challenge is nearly over."  
Garron looked out across the field and made his decision.

~:~

"Ba? " Malik tugged urgently on Alex's sleeve. "Ba?"  
Alex, engrossed in the fight, patted his youngest son's shoulder.  
"In a minute, Mali."  
Malik's voice became more urgent.  
"Ba!"  
"WAIT, Mali."  
Malik made a whining sound that he'd clearly learned from his cub littermates and reached up to pull on his badi's clothes again.   
"But, Ba, Appa's fighting."  
Kriston and Alex turned around just in time to see a flash of silvery white wolfe go flying out of the crowd and into the ring.  
"Oh." Alex said. "Shit."

~:~

Garron had not felt exhilaration like this in so long. His feet pounded, hackles stood on end. Wind rushed through his fur. He thrust his body forward, pounding across the ground, breaking apart great swathes of people and wolfes. Inside the circle, he aimed for the wolfe Tjomin and launched himself with great power through the air, landing crossways atop him. The wolfe went down quickly, righted himself, wrangled to regain his position, failed, and fell under Garron's swift assault. The Alpha howled out his satisfaction and circled to face off the last contender.

Guanaren was facing him, head down, hackles raised, looking renewed. Garron growled, and together they launched themselves, met midair, snapped at necks and shoulders, and went down wrestling. They fell, separated, righted themselves and launched again - a second offensive, this one both more desperate and more damaging than the last. A claw took Garron's shoulder, shredded the skin. An answering thrust wrenched Guanaren's paw underneath of him, tumbling him from his feet.

The last contender was down. Garron breathed in once, twice, and then Guanaren was up again, all teeth and fury and raw, fearsome power. Garron felt a spark of worry - an unfamiliar feeling. Guanaren, fatigued and injured, still fought like a man possessed, and Garron, Alpha though he was, was forced to confront the uncomfortable possibility that in Guanaren, he had found his successor.

The surge of fear, the vulnerability that Garron suddenly felt spurred some new energy in the older wolfe - when he and Guanaren wrestled again and fell, the Alpha came out on top and saw his moment. Teeth bared, he reached down and snapped his jaws just centimeters from Guanaren's throat. The wolfe froze. Garron used the moment to catch his neck in a bite - not a killing bite, but one sharp enough to mean that he should be still.

The crowd was still cheering on both sides, excited by the finality of the struggle.  
Garron released his opponent's neck. Then quietly, as the wolfe, he whispered:  
"If you stop now, Jara goes home with you."

The brown wolfe on his back on the ground didn't seem to understand - he wriggled as if to right himself and keep the conflict going. Garron backed off, let Guanaren get up and charge again and when they went down for the second time, the Alpha repeated himself.  
"Guanaren! Enough! Stop this right now, and Jara will be your mate."  
The wolfe bared his teeth.  
"If I continue, Jara will be my mate anyway."  
Garron narrowed his eyes and curled one lip back.  
"If you continue, I will kill you."

The younger wolfe blinked up at him, panting. Garron fixed a stare on him and held it. Neither looked away. The Alpha growled.  
"Lay still. Call an end to this. It's gone too far. If we continue to fight, we both will lose. If you best me, the Pack will fall into an uproar. If I best you, I will have to kill you for your dissent." Garron paused, let a bit of the worry creep onto his face. "I don't want to kill you, Guanaren."

Beneath him, the wolfe heaved breath. Garron settled two heavy paws on Guanaren's chest and leaned forward.  
"Stop this now, and Jara will be your reward. Lay still, and let me declare an end to this. You've already fought for my varon - everyone knows your intentions. If I end the fight and give him to you, they will believe you have my support. You won't need the cheap chatter of dissenters to back your bid for Alpha - it will be expected." Garron leaned even closer, his muzzle inches from Guanaren's. "If you love your Pack, avoid discord in it. A wolfe seeks ever the peaceful path."

Guanaren lay there for a moment, breathing hard, and Garron watched the lucidity slowly return to the wolfe's eyes. After a few seconds, he nodded.   
"OK, Alpha. Give me your varon."

* * *

"Alpha, this isn't fair!"  
Garron shook his head.  
"It is fair, Jara. Guanaren fought hard for you."  
Jara cast around in a panic - he looked to Kriston, then Alex, then back to his Alpha.   
"But I don't want to bond with Guanaren!"  
Kriston cleared his throat.  
"Jara, I know this is confusing for you - "  
"It's not confusing! It's just not fair!"

Kriston drew himself up and Jara dropped his head in submission and bit his lip. Angry or not, he shouldn't have interrupted an Alpha. He waited for Kriston to speak again. The wolfe cleared his throat and continued.  
"I know this is confusing for you. What comes naturally to wolfes does not always come to humans. But this is the way of things, the oldest law of the fight: to the victor go the spoils." Kriston frowned and studied Jara's face. "I know you wanted something different."  
Jara shook his head angrily, dark curls tickling his shoulder, but still didn't lift his eyes to the Alpha.  
"I want to decide who I bond to!"  
Across the room, a low growl rose in Garron's throat.  
"You question my ability to choose a mate for you?"  
Jara glanced up, hesitated, glanced to Alex for guidance, received none, and went back to looking at the floor.  
"No, Alpha."  
Garron grunted.  
"Well. Alexei had no choice. Damon had no choice. Zechariah had no choice. And they are all well and happy. You will be, too, as soon as you learn your place in the pack."

Jara rankled at the implication, but knew better than to show it; instead, he bit his lip to keep silent, and to keep the approaching tears at bay. Alex was watching him from his position across the room, at Garron's side, and when the first hint of tears appeared, he came forward and hugged the young varon.   
In the closeness of their embrace, Alex spoke quietly.  
"You'll be alright, Jara. Guanaren is a good wolfe. Garron will always look out for you, and Guanaren is good. I will make sure of that."

Was goodness enough? Alex wondered privately. Was goodness enough to determine a mate?   
Garron had told them all that Alex hadn't had a choice about mating him. Was that strictly true? Alex had, after all, chosen to come here, chosen to be found...not like Jara. Jara-named-Ryce, who had never had any choice in the things that had happened to him; who had simply floated, like a leaf, along the surface of the rushing water. Who now fought the current.

"I don't care. I don't want to be with him."  
Alex passed a comforting hand through Jara's hair.  
"Guanaren will give you a good life."  
Jara shook his head. Then, suddenly, he looked up, as if a thought had just occurred to him.  
"Wait, he won, but that just means I have to mate him, right? Not bond. Just mate, right? Can't we just...?"  
Garron cut him off with a snarl.  
"No. Under no conditions will I allow that indignity."  
Jara held his gaze firm.  
"I would rather that, Alpha." he said quietly. Garron's eyes took on a glint of anger, and Kriston stepped between them.  
"Jara, it will be best to wait and have a bonding." the second wolfe said, gently. "To be mated after a fight like this....it could be very violent. And you've only just come of age." Kriston's brow furrowed, and he stepped forward to rest two large hands on either of Jara's shoulders. "Nobody wants to see you get hurt."  
Jara shook his head.  
"But he won't hurt me, will he? If I'm his mate?"  
There was a moment of quiet in the room. Then Jara blurted,   
"I want to court Semmelin."  
Garron slammed his fist into the table and snarled.  
"You are NOT courting Semmelin, and if you ask me that again, then you can damn well be responsible for your own future."  
Jara stepped back, dropping his gaze.  
"Sorry, Alpha."  
Kriston, stepping between the varon and the Alpha, just shook his head.  
"Don't be sorry, Jara. Just do as you're told."


	17. I Am Your Alpha Now

Guanaren paced the room he'd been led to after the fight. It was a simple guest holding cell. There was a bed along one side of the room, and a door to an exterior courtyard. The walls were yellow, and food had been brought recently. Guanaren ignored it. He couldn't eat. His skin itched, badly. His fingers tingled, and his heart pounded, and his cock, tumescent beneath his robes, slickened his skin. Ahhhhh, but he needed to run. To move, to be out, to growl, to howl, to run and pound the earth and snap and bite and claim his mate and spend himself in the sweet cavity of heart and jungle heat. Guanaren shivered. The moon was pulling at him, tugging at his fur and his toes and his ears and his hair.  
Help me, he prayed to her. Help me find him.  
He wondered if his room was under guard.

* * *

Jara walked numbly to the private bathing rooms. His feet and head and belly ached. He wanted to go to the infirmary to check on Semmelin, but First Alpha Wolfe Garron had already posted guards outside of the young wolfe's room with strict instructions to keep Jara out. After being rebuffed, Jara had wandered until he was found by Alexei, who walked him home to the Alpha quarters, and instructed him to remain there for the evening. It would be best, he'd said. The evening meal would be delivered, and the family would return before midnight.  
Jara had cried for an hour.

Afterwards, when it was almost dark, he had gotten up, undressed, and put on a robe to go to the Alpha's private bathing rooms.

~:~

Jara let himself into the warm water of the small bathing pool and settled on a bench. He couldn't believe that Semmelin had lost. That the young wolfe had tried, and failed, and lost Jara in the process.

That was not the way things were supposed to go.  
Jara's heart ached for himself, for the consequences, for poor sleeping Semmelin in his infirmary bed.

He dipped his head into the water, wanting to rinse out some of the dust of the sparring field.  
Above him, the sky dimmed and covered over with black, and the moon rose until it lit the hot water around him. Jara swayed his hands back and forth in the pool, the trickles of silver reflecting onto his skin, his hair, his eyes.  
Out loud, he voiced the worry dominant in his mind:  
I don't even know Guanaren.

Silence, and then Jara sat up suddenly - had that been footsteps behind him? He felt a rush of embarrassment at having been caught talking to himself.  
"Mate Alexei?"   
No answer rebounded, but no further sounds came either. Perhaps it was his imagination, or the sound of the trees outside, or a wayward cub who had since wandered off. Jara closed his eyes and returned to soaking in the pool.

Semmelin would be sleeping about now - the enforced regenerative sleep of the healers. Dreaming of him, perhaps? Jara sighed, feeling drowsy. Then there it was again - that sound. Like a rush of air. Like...movement. Jara sat fully upright, then found his feet to move backwards in the water.  
"First Alpha Wolfe Garron?" he called out, tentatively. No response but a flickering of shadows. "First Alpha Mate Alexei?"

Then he heard it - low, menacing, and close.   
A growl.

Jara startled and leapt backwards, feeling for just a minute that he had lost his footing in this time and slipped into the other one - the time of memories, of his mother and marks on the wrist and cold feet in the snow.  
The shadow spoke.  
"I am your alpha, little one."  
Jara worked to draw breath. The shadow slowly revealed itself, and this was wrong, it felt all wrong, and Jara knew immediately where this path led. He didn't bother thinking of escape - there was none for this. No rerouting of desire or avoidance of instinct. No way out but through. Thoughts were clear. His mate was here, with rightful claim, and he was alone. No amount of shouting, or running, or distractions or escapes would remedy that fact.

So Jara accepted.

The prowling form of the challenger wolfe rose from the shadows, shaped itself out of darkness into lithe body, and movement, and eyes that reflected briefly the moonlight.  
"It's you." Jara heard his own voice; it sounded weak. The wolfe did not take offense.  
"Yes, little one. It's me."  
"I thought they - we were - supposed to wait."  
The excuse sounded silly, even to Jara's ears, but at least it had been said. Guanaren came closer, padded on bare human feet forward so that he stood, naked and pulsing, at the edge of the water. His voice was bestial.  
"Done with waiting."  
Guanaren grinned - really a baring of teeth - and his eyes flashed brightly at Jara in a way uncanny for his human form. He knelt down and ran a knuckle over the rippling surface of the water.

Jara took another step backwards. He needed a moment - time to think, to plan. Even if this was to be it, even if a claim was unavoidable, it didn't have to be violent. He just needed Guanaren to be calm, and to stay calm. Jara kept his posture submissive; his heart hammered away wildly in his chest, but there was nothing for that. He kept his eyes diverted.  
Guanaren lowered one long leg into the water.

"I'm fresh." Jara blurted, in an abortive play for control. Guanaren paused and regarded his mate carefully.  
"They think I will hurt you. Because of the fight today. They think Guanaren is wild." Guanaren's voice sounded disconnected and choppy - like a radio cutting in and out of clarity. Jara shivered. The wolfe turned his gaze fully on Jara. "Do you think I will hurt you?"  
Jara bit his lip.  
"No."  
Guanaren dropped the other leg in, wriggling his toes in the water.  
"I won't hurt you. No." he shook his head. "Won't hurt my mate."  
Jara nodded, vigorously to cover the fact that he was trembling.  
"OK. OK. I believe you."

Guanaren yawned suddenly, stretching and baring teeth that did not look completely shifted. Jara stood still, waiting. The wolfe dropped down to stand in the pool, covered to his waist in water.   
"You are a bold beta." he took a step forward, and Jara swayed, but held his ground. Guanaren curled a lip as if amused. "Not afraid. Even of a strange wolfe in your bath?"  
Jara blinked across at him. The moon reflected on the space between them. Jara's voice wavered.  
"You're my mate. A beta does not fear his mate."  
Guanaren took two further steps, placing him only a foot from Jara. Too close to run now, Jara knew.  
"Your heart is pounding." the wolfe met Jara's eyes. "You want to run."  
"But I won't."  
The words came out defiant, and Guanaren smiled sincerely then, a sort of softness spreading to his features.   
He tilted his head and looked at Jara, speaking again with the eloquence of a human voice.  
"By the moon, you would have been wasted on him."  
Jara bit his lip because for this, there was no response fitting.

Guanaren closed the space between them, and Jara could smell sweat and dust and the vaguely medical smell of sanitizer and something else - a strong, musky odor that was unfamiliar. Guanaren watched the human's reactions carefully. Jara did not meet his eyes, and so Guanaren reached down with one hand and grasped his chin, turning it upwards for a kiss.

Jara went unprotestingly. Guanaren released him, but did not allow him to retreat far. He dropped his nose to the human's neck and inhaled deeply. A low rumble in his chest tickled Jara's skin, and he wriggled in the wolfe's arms. Guanaren's eyes shot up to the human's face, then narrowed, and Jara went still. Quietly, he offered:  
"I - I could bathe you, if you want."  
The wolfe pulled back and smiled.  
"You think I need a bath, little one?" Jara shrugged sheepishly and Guanaren grinned. "Or are you trying to delay me?"  
There was a small note of warning in the question, and Jara dropped his eyes.  
"No, Alpha."  
A moment of tension, and then Guanaren nodded towards the pile of cloth that lay poolside.  
"Quickly."

Jara complied and returned shortly with a length of cloth, which he soaped in the water without looking at Guanaren. When it was sudsy, he paused, unsure where to begin. Guanaren watched him patiently, but when Jara decided to start with his back, the wolfe growled and caught the human's slim wrist in a sharp grip.  
"Do. Not. Run." he warned.

Jara nodded, his pulse pounding in his veins so hard he was sure the wolfe had to feel it on his skin.   
Guanaren released him with a grunt and turned away slowly. Jara moved into position, then lifted the dripping cloth to the broad expanse of the wolfe's back. He started tentatively, soaping one shoulder, then grew bolder and began dragging the cloth downward in long strokes across the length of the wolfe's spine. Guanaren relaxed and made a sound as close to a purr as a 130 kg wolfe was able.  
Jara dipped low in the water to wash the wolfe's legs, leaving his tail for last. At the first touch of Jara's hands to the base of it, the wolfe hissed. Jara released him immediately.  
"Sorry."  
the wolfe laughed, his voice sounding scratchy.  
"Don't be, little one. Now, come, wash my front."

Jara hesitated only briefly before circling, slowly, around to face the wolfe. Guanaren tried to meet his eyes; Jara denied him that and deliberately kept his gaze diverted downwards. He raised the cloth to bathe the wolfe's belly and brushed unexpectedly against his erection, causing the wolfe to shiver and Jara to step backwards.

"Bathe me." Guanaren commanded, his voice almost a bark, impatience creeping into the edges of it. His eyes shimmered wildly in the light of the moon. Jara swallowed and came forward again. The wolfe's ears pricked slightly and he relaxed.  
"Good beta. Such a good little one."  
Jara bit his tongue and soaped the cloth again, rubbing it in smooth circles across the wolfe's sharply muscular chest, pausing momentarily over nipples and scars until the wolfe's low voice urged him on.

Jara hadn't been able to tell before, but facing Guanaren as he was now, he could see that the wolfe had closed his eyes, reveling fully in the sensuality of the bath, blocking out the distraction of light and vision. His head was thrown back a little, lips slightly parted, and he appeared to be in the beginning throes of some sort of physical ecstasy.  
Jara washed sides, shoulders, arms, belly, but then paused, uncertain of whether or not to continue, at the indent of hip that led to the wolfe's still semi-erect cock.

Guanaren solved this crisis for Jara, seizing the hesitant hand in his larger one, opening his eyes and viewing his beta with renewed intention. Jara's skin, flushed from the heat of the bath, shielded his embarrassment, but the wolfe no doubt smelled the spike of fear on him. Guanaren took the wrist he held and used it to pull Jara behind him as he began to leave the bathing pool.

On dry land, the wolfe refused to allow Jara to towel down or dress either of them, instead dragging his quarry behind him out of the bathing room and into the hallway. In the corridor, he paused, confused, and Jara tried fruitlessly to shield his nakedness with his free hand. The wolfe, still grasping him, seemed unconcerned.

"Room." Guanaren eventually growled, and Jara noticed that his voice had lost its human-ness again. How long had they been in the bathing room together? Jara suddenly worried. A half hour? More? What time was it? Would anyone be coming home soon?  
"Room!" the wolfe repeated, and shook him. Jara refocused himself. Don't worry about who's coming. No one is coming. Worry about what's going on. Worry about your new mate.  
"Here." he said, leading the wolfe down two more doors to his room, "In here."  
The room was dark, but lit by its single window. Guanaren went in first, sniffing the room to assess its suitability for a mating den. Discerning no other occupants or immediate threats, he dragged Jara in and shut the door.

Fully alone now, and without even the paltry, public light of the bathing rooms, Jara felt far more intimidated than he had before. Guanaren faced him, looming large in the slim light, enormous in the darkness. Heavy hands pushed Jara backwards, onto the bed, and the massive weight followed the smaller body with his own. Jara sucked in a breath as the wolfe's erect penis plunged recklessly against his thigh, and the wolfe's left knee wedged between his legs. The same hands now drew up along his sides, followed immediately by a tongue that lapped the water from the crevices of belly and hip.

In Academy, all betas learned the basics of mating: how it went, when it could be anticipated, how a beta should react, how to determine whether a wolfe was in a frenzy, (when it would be unsafe to reject him) or simply amorous (when it would be fine to walk away). Guanaren's eyes were shifting, back and forth between beast and human, and Jara knew, therefore, what was coming before it came.

The wolfe was making low, baying sounds to himself now, preoccupied in investigating every sliver and aperture of his mate's lithe form. Hands led, and tongue and nose followed and eventually Guanaren ended with Jara's legs hiked onto either shoulder, nose pressed flush against the thatch of brown hair at the base of the beta's cock and tongue lapping eagerly at the heated entrance.

Within his hands, Jara writhed and squeezed the bed linens and gasped in little nervous breaths. Fear, and the unparalleled thoroughness of Academy training kept him from fighting the wolfe, from pulling away.

Guanaren's touch grew faster, more urgent; he dipped the tip of his tongue into Jara, then dragged it out, tracing the outline of the pink, flushing wetness and the underside of Jara's hardening cock. Jara yelped and whimpered and arched up off of the bed and Guanaren smiled a short, feral smile and slid his tongue deeper into the little beta's sweet flesh. Jara rewarded him with another whimper and a touch to his shoulder. Guanaren grunted, but then the human's touch became more insistent.   
Keep as much control as you can, they had told him in Academy, even if the wolfe is completely wild.  
Guanaren looked up and met his beta's eyes.  
"Now." Jara whispered. "If you're going to do it, do it now."

Guanaren's ears flicked in a decidedly wolfish fashion and he released Jara's thighs, sitting upwards to a kneel. Jara wished one last time for the cavalry to arrive - for his Alpha and Mate Alexei to come bursting in at the last moment, hackles raised, to defend him. He wished briefly for Semmelin, but felt guilty and silly for even considering it. Of course he wouldn't come. And if he did, to what end? He'd failed once against Guanaren, and would likely fail again. The guilt doubled at the thought of Semmelin's weakness - at least the young wolfe had tried.

Jara was forced from his thoughts by the wolfe's slick, turgid member pressing pressing past his outer muscles. The feeling was curious, immediate, and attention-grabbing, but not painful. Then, in a breath, the wolfe surged forward, and Jara's entrance was forced open and his legs were thrust apart. Jara choked on the brief discomfort - it was not unlike the times Semmelin had touched him there, just...heavier somehow. More demanding. The wolfe paused then, to sniff at Jara's neck and press short, soothing licks to the side of his face. Then, marshaling himself, Guanaren slid farther forward and sheathed himself fully. Jara keened, but the cry came more from surprise than pain - Guanaren, even frenzied, treated him kindly, it seemed.

The ending went faster than the beginning had - Guanaren slid into him, with him, almost through him, and Jara raised his hips to meet the sensation which had changed from curious to difficult to manageable to arousing. Everything was gone. The fight was gone. Guanaren was gone. Semmelin was gone.

This is mine, Jara told himself, determined. This moment belongs to me.

Then he was coming, his orgasm rippling over him in little spotty stars and waves of color and light. He held on to Guanaren, frightened of being lost in the tides, and the wolfe growled and spent himself inside of his mate.

~:~

After mating twice more, they slept for a brief time - Guanaren, soundly and Jara, fitfully. When the wolfe woke, Jara was awake and watching the moon dance across the sky. He sat up so that he could look down on the slim body.  
"Mate?"   
No reaction but for a quick intake of breath.  
"Yeah?"  
The wolfe was uncertain of himself. He reached a hand out to touch the skin lit by silver light. Jara didn't flinch.  
"Are you harmed?"  
Jara shook his head.  
"No."  
Guanaren felt honest relief.  
"I apologize. I never meant to come to you this way."  
Jara jerked his lips in what could have been a grimace or a smile.  
"I know. You weren't yourself. It was Frenzy."  
Guanaren watched the boy for further insight. None came.  
"Did I frighten you?"  
Jara shrugged, but spoke no answer.  
Guanaren nodded and sighed.  
"My apologies, little one. I know the first time can be difficult for betas. If I had been myself, I would have taken greater precaution to ensure you were not unduly stressed."  
Jara didn't answer; just nodded and shrugged again. Guanaren frowned.  
"What's the matter, cub?"  
Jara's grimace/smile returned.  
"Nothing."  
Guanaren shook his head.  
"I am a wolfe of more than thirty years. I cannot be put off like a pup."  
Jara shrugged.  
"Doesn't matter."  
Guanaren frowned.  
"You are my bondmate. It matters."

Jara shook his head. Guilt was beginning to pound through again - guilt for betraying Semm, for forgetting him, for accepting Guanaren as a mate. It made his stomach hurt. Guanaren's hand had moved to stroke his hip; he moved away from it.

"I'm not your bondmate yet."  
The wolfe's expression darkened.  
"I see." Guanaren drew back and was quiet for a moment. "You intend to refuse me."  
Jara shrugged. Guanaren's tone grew grim.  
"This is because of the wolfe I fought."  
Jara raised an eyebrow.  
"Don't you mean wolfes?"  
"Only one was invited. The little one. Your wolfe."  
Jara almost laughed at the irony of attaching them in that way. Instead, he simply made a sound of accord.

Guanaren grumbled.  
"He lost, Jara. There is no appeal. Forget him."  
The harshness in the wolfe's tone made Jara almost tremble.  
"He's my friend. He's - it's Semmelin. I can't - he's my friend. I don't have a lot of friends, but he's one of them, and I like being around him; he makes me happy - he makes me - I don't - I mean, I can't just forget him." the words were jumbling together; there was no right way to explain what the young wolfe meant to him.

In the dark, Guanaren watched his mate closely. The supple body was trembling, the hair mussed and legs crossed as if to defend himself. The moonlight spilled across slim thighs and curved hips and into the indentations of waist. Such a beautiful picture, presented before him. Guanaren sighed. How had he even gotten into this? It was only meant to be a demonstration - just a short fight to prove a point. To prove openly he was loyal to the Pack; that he was loyal to The Way of Things. That he, unlike Garron, would not allow resistance, dissent, or clever upstarts.

He hadn't meant to acquire a mate for himself in the process. Suddenly, Guanaren felt grumpy and out of sorts. None of this was supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to like this beta, and he wasn't supposed to be here, in the Alpha's quarters, and most of all, he wasn't supposed to befriend the Alpha. Jara spoke again.  
"I want to go and see him."  
Guanaren snorted.  
"Go, then. The infirmary is open."  
"Alpha won't let me."  
Guanaren raised an eyebrow.  
"I am your alpha now. You go."


End file.
